


headlights, strobe lights (& we can take the long way)

by restitched (beingothrwrldly)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Past Perrie Edwards/Zayn Malik, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:04:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingothrwrldly/pseuds/restitched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn and Niall go on an American road trip after Zayn graduates from uni.</p>
<p>Warnings for cursing, Niall making fun of Zayn, Zayn making fun of Niall, lots of selfies, lots of kissing, Zayn singing karaoke, Niall with too many feelings, and all of the donuts and waffles on the east coast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	headlights, strobe lights (& we can take the long way)

**Author's Note:**

> I literally don't know what to say here. I've spent days worrying about this author's note because when I started this thing, everything was so different; tbh I'm more than a little sad to let this story go. 
> 
> Let me START by linking to the work of my absolute incredible artist, [hungerpunch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hungerpunch/pseuds/hungerpunch) / [coffeeandniall](http://coffeeandniall.tumblr.com) whose beautiful work can be found [HERE](http://coffeeandniall.tumblr.com/post/117055018281) as well as throughout this story. So many thanks to you for dealing with SO. MANY. frantic and panicky emails during the last week of March and the first weeks in April when I felt like nobody loved Zayn anymore and the whole world was falling apart. And then for coming up with these truly beautiful pieces; I'm floored by your talent and constantly chinhanding over these pieces, have I MENTIONED how much I adore them?! YEP I HAVE BUT OH WELL. YOU ARE THE GREATEST AND I LOVE YOU, thank you so much. <333
> 
> I'd also like to give many many thanks to Cass and Sarah for the wonderful betaing and Britpicking; your comments and suggestions really helped this fic get to where it is, and I truly appreciate everything you did and your patience with my questions and comments. I LOVE YOU BOTH SO MUCH. <333
> 
> To the mods of Big Bang, your flexibility has been SO VALUABLE and well-appreciated, and I AM SO GLAD YOU ORGANIZED THIS CHALLENGE even though I'm fifty billion years late on posting.
> 
> And finally, I really don't even know what to say aside from an enormous thank you to the countless people who dealt with my nonsense over the last month. I could go on for ages about how heartbreaking it's been to deal with losing Zayn as well as half of my beloved Ziall but I think everyone's probably tired of hearing about it, so just know that I'm eternally thankful for everyone's support. To everyone on Twitter and WhatsApp and of course to my beloved OT5, thank you all for listening to my feelings about Zayn and helping me to not curl up in a ball and cry forever. I'm so grateful for all of you for giving me the encouragement - whether consciously or not - to continue with this fic and see it through to the end. I can't believe it's actually finished. I love you all to the moon and back. 
> 
> Okay! Actual notes! There isn’t a Waffle House in Pennsylvania or a Nando’s in South Carolina; there's a magic shop mentioned that doesn't exist anymore irl but I needed it here so WHATEVER, REALITY. Any other oversights or mistakes are mine and unintentional. If you're looking for angst, you'll probably be disappointed. And if you're Zayn or Niall or anyone who knows them please get close this tab immediately.

**headlights, strobe lights ( & we can take the long way)**

The day after Zayn graduates from UAL Chelsea, Niall shows up at his door with an armload of books and a bottle of wine tucked haphazardly under his arm.

Zayn grabs the bottle of wine before it smashes on the front step and Niall grins. “Thanks, mate, that’s for you!” He kisses Zayn’s cheek and carries the books inside and drops them onto the table. Zayn recognizes the one on the top of the pile; he’d bought it on a whim from a clearance table at the bookshop on campus, a book filled with pages of photos of roadside America. It looks like it’s been through too much in the weeks since Zayn had given it to Niall - the cover has a crease folded down the middle and the corners are frayed; the spine’s been cracked and there are brightly colored scraps of paper sticking out at all angles.

Niall grabs it and takes out a plain white envelope from inside the front cover. “Congratulations and all that,” Niall says, smiling brightly, and he hands it to Zayn. Zayn takes it and his name is scrawled across the front in glittery blue ink with a hasty underline and an exclamation point. 

Zayn studies it for a while and then looks up at Niall. “What’s this for?”

“So, listen,” Niall says, “I’ve done a bit of thinking.” Zayn laughs and Niall straightens his shoulders like he’s about to deliver a speech. “I think I need a copilot on my big American adventure.”

Zayn had met Niall a month into his first year at UAL Chelsea when he’d been dragged to a party; Zayn’s best mate Louis had been invited by Niall's best mate Bressie and Zayn hadn't been able to get out of it. He'd hung back near the door with a beer for most of the night and half-listened to a chatty blond kid tell stories about Ireland with the thickest accent Zayn’d ever heard. The kid finished telling a story about golf to a big group of people and then he’d turned and zeroed in on Zayn and said, “What’re you standin’ all the way over there for, you’re missing everything!”

Zayn wound up learning just about everything there was to know about Niall Horan in the span of three hours, and when he and Louis had left, Zayn felt as if his head was spinning. Niall’s not stopped talking ever since, and Zayn’s not sure he ever wants to stop listening.

While Zayn’s been at uni, Niall’s been working, mostly; three jobs and sometimes four, if his schedule allows it. Up before the sun some days and out until long after it’s gone down; he lives in a tiny flat in the middle of London with three other guys, his room’s barely big enough for his bed and it’s always too fucking cold, but Zayn’s not sure he’s ever seen Niall without a smile. That same day they met, Niall had stopped himself mid-sentence and said, “Hey, have you ever been to the States?” He’s been planning to travel for ages and the time’s finally come; Zayn had given him a handmade countdown calendar for Christmas and Niall’s been crossing off the days for six months. 

So a plane ticket is nowhere near what he’s expecting, when he opens the envelope, but that’s what’s inside and the dates match up with the one he knows Niall’s got and it’ll be touching down in Massachusetts in a week’s time. “Whoa,” Zayn says, and he looks at Niall, eyes wide. “No. Niall. This is too much, you can’t—“

“Non-refundable!” Niall says, tapping the ticket. “Too late. I _knew_ you’d say that, Bressie said you’d say that, I knew it.” He smiles happily like he’d known this would be too much, like he’d requested a non-refundable ticket or something when he’d bought it, and Zayn’s not entirely sure that he _didn’t_. 

“Niall, I’m serious,” Zayn says, and he feels like he’s drowning. “I can’t take this!”

Niall unfolds an honest-to-god paper road map and spreads it out on the table, and then he hands Zayn a couple sheets of folded notebook paper. The map is creased in too many places and there’s a route mapped out in green sharpie – Boston to New York City, Pennsylvania to Washington DC, a squiggly line marking the route south to Florida. “Niall,” Zayn says quietly.

“D’you know how big America is?” Niall asks, and then he says, “What if I get lost and you never hear from me ever again?” He looks up and grins and Zayn’s head is spinning. “I’ve made a bucket list.”

Zayn opens the papers, and Niall’s bucket list is two full pages long. It’s filled with things like _Fountain of Youth_ and _factory tours – food???_ and _WASHINGTON DC_ in Niall’s loopy handwriting, and Zayn skims through half of it before the words start to blur together and he says, “Have you got any idea how _expensive_ this’ll be?”

“Funny,” Niall says, “how much money you can save up while you live on top of three other people.” He’s got an entire notebook filled with notes and calculations and he says, “I’ve been ready for this for five…six months? Six months. Bressie said I should wait a bit, save a little more for when we come back.” He flips through some more pages. “So now I’ve got a nest egg and you’ve got a ticket and we’re going to have a fuckin’ amazing time.” He watches Zayn like he’s _sure_ Zayn’s going to say no, and Zayn’s heart aches just a little bit. “It’s just, you’ve graduated now,” Niall continues, softer, “and I thought…I dunno. I thought this’d be fuckin’ great. Ya know? Get away for a bit.” He smiles and really, is there any way to say no to that?

Their plane touches down at Logan Airport on a bright hot morning in the beginning of June.

The pilot comes over the intercom and says, “Welcome to Boston. The local time is 12:23pm.” Zayn can’t make sense of that because they’ve been on the plane for ages and the day’s barely half over. Niall has his phone out already and he’s looking for somewhere to get lunch. “We’ve had food on the plane,” Zayn says, but Niall just gives him a look like _do you even know who you’re talking to?_ and Zayn really should know better.

When they pick up the rental car, Zayn stands back and studies it while Niall loads their bags into the back. He wonders if he’s really prepared enough for this trip. They’ve got a three-hour drive ahead to Vermont and he’s already exhausted. “Gimme the keys, Malik,” Niall says, and he climbs into the driver’s seat. Zayn gets in the passenger side as Niall is hooking up his iPod to the stereo, and Zayn feels overwhelmingly out of place.

“I swear I’m going to try and use the brakes over here,” he says, and Niall laughs loudly.

“Won’t do ya much good, will it?” he says, and he looks over and grins. “Shall I put something mellow on so you can get a bit of sleep?”

“Mmhmm, yes,” Zayn says, and he closes his eyes to guitars strumming. He dozes for a bit and then almost immediately he feels the car slowing down, hears the turn signal, and he groans but doesn’t open his eyes. “What are you _doing_?”

“There’s a Sonic drive-in here,” Niall says. He slows to a stop at the end of the ramp and leans forward on the steering wheel, looks down the road before pulling out. Zayn’s never even heard of Sonic before but Niall pulls into the lot and up to a board covered with pictures and combos. Zayn leans over and peers out the window at it; Niall looks at him and sits really still and Zayn purses his lips and leans back again, says, “Surprise me, I can’t even think.”

Niall orders lots of things, chicken fingers and fries and something called tots. A young girl brings out two paper bags stained with grease on the bottom and two enormous cups of cherry limeade, which Niall swears will be fantastic but Zayn thinks is way too sweet. They eat in the car and listen to old music piping in over the speakers outside and afterwards Zayn feels awake so he pokes Niall in the arm. “Alright,” he says, “I’m ready to try this driving thing.”

Niall clicks his teeth and unbuckles his seatbelt and they get out of the car and swap sides. Zayn turns the car on but just sits there for a long time; Niall watches him and says, “You’ve got this,” and Zayn grins and puts both hands on the steering wheel. It feels weird for a bit but he gets the hang of it pretty quick; he drives down the highway with the windows down and Niall sings along to top 40 music on the radio.

They pull into the parking lot of the Ben & Jerry factory tour and Niall is buzzing in the passenger seat. Zayn barely gets the car in park before Niall is out of the car; Zayn catches up to him and Niall looks back over his shoulder and stops in his tracks and Zayn actually runs into him. “Oh,” Zayn says as Niall grabs his arm, and they both stumble a little before Niall gets them balanced again. 

“Stand right here!” Niall says as he guides Zayn backwards a couple steps. He takes out his phone and taps on the screen, and Zayn sighs and crosses his arms. “ _Mountains_!” Niall says with a grin as he taps a couple times on the screen, and he looks up and smiles brightly at Zayn. “Smile!”

And Zayn can’t not, really, so he smiles big and Niall takes his picture and it’s really not terrible; he’s centered it just right so there are mountains in the background and up over Zayn’s head it says _Peace, love & ice cream_. “Have you ever made a scrapbook?” Niall asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer before walking up towards the building, so Zayn just follows.

The tour is pretty interesting, honestly. They watch a movie about the history of Ben and Jerry and then they walk through a glass-walled room where they’re making ice cream; the tour guide hands out samples of Phish Food in paper cups and the air smells of sweet cream. Once they’re outside Niall says he’s in the mood for buckets of ice cream and they go over to the ice cream stand. There’s something called a Vermonster which seems to be served in an actual bucket; Zayn shakes his head immediately when Niall says, “Look!”

“A Ver _monster_ , Niall,” Zayn says pointedly. “It’s a monstrous amount of ice cream.”

“Twenty scoops of ice cream!” Niall says. “How would you ever choose twenty flavors?”

Zayn orders more Phish Food in a waffle cone and then he leans on the counter while Niall goes back and forth between Cotton Candy and Americone Dream before finally deciding on Two Wild and Crazy Pies. “ _Cotton_ candy,” he says to Zayn while they’re waiting. “Gross.” Zayn reads the description next to Two Wild and Crazy Pies and he thinks that sounds pretty gross too, but once Niall gets his cone he makes Zayn try it and aside from the coconut, it’s really not that bad.

Once Zayn gets his ice cream they follow signs up a road to the flavor graveyard - _follow me_ , says one sign; _almost there_ says another, a flat black crow perched on top of it – and then ahead of them is a small area fenced in with a white picket fence. “He was so young,” Niall says somberly, stopping in front of a grave marker for Urban Jumble. “So sad.”

“Peanuts! Popcorn!” Zayn says, pointing to another one. “Don’t you think that’d be gross, popcorn in ice cream?”

“Nah, no way,” Niall says, “sweet and salty? Nah, I’d probably try most of these flavors. White Russian!”

They make their way through the graveyard and Niall takes pictures of some of the markers. “Holy Cannoli,” he says, smiling, and then his smile fades and he says, “Oh, no.”

Zayn frowns and watches as he walks over to one of the markers, drops to his knees and presses his fingers to the stone. “Dublin Mudslide,” Zayn says as he walks up behind Niall. “I didn’t know he’d been…sick?”

“Yes,” Niall says. “It was…” He puts a hand to his chest and Zayn bites back a smile as Niall is overcome with what Zayn assumes are meant to be emotions. “We’re too late.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Zayn says seriously. He puts a hand on Niall’s shoulder and Niall sighs and drops his head, and they have a moment of silence while birds chirp happily in trees overhead. 

“Well,” Niall says, and he stands up quickly, smiles at Zayn. Zayn lets his hand drop and smiles back. “I’m really bummed about that, I’d like to have tried it!”

“We’re only, like.” Zayn looks over. “Seven years too late. He’s been gone seven years, Niall.”

“Time to move on, I suppose,” Niall says, and they walk out of the graveyard and sit in the grass to finish their ice cream. The sun is warm at their backs and the air is hot and heavy; Zayn leans back against the fence and tilts his face up to the sky. “There’s this yard in Florida,” Niall says after a minute, and Zayn looks over at him, “with all these jumping whales?”

Florida feels like worlds away and Zayn watches him for a minute. They’re due to leave from Florida in a month and already Zayn doesn’t want to go back. “’S that our grand finale, then?” he asks. “Whales in someone’s yard?”

Niall laughs softly, shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “Just a stop on the way, didn’t want to forget about it.”

They sit for a while after they finish their ice cream, until finally Zayn says, “We’d best get to the hotel, yeah?” Niall nods and they get up, start making their way back to the car. On the way they stop off at a giant ice cream lid that’s propped up near a fence. There are holes cut out where Ben and Jerry’s faces would be and Niall says, “Perfect, this is the perfect photo op,” and asks a woman nearby if she’ll take their picture. Zayn pokes Niall in the ribs once they’ve got their faces in the right spots and Niall laughs out loud which makes Zayn laugh and when Niall gets his phone back it’s the best picture Zayn’s ever seen. 

Niall thanks the woman for the picture and she asks where they’re from and Niall says, “Ireland! And London,” he adds, thumbing towards Zayn, “he’s just graduated and he’s never left the country before, can you believe it? We’re celebrating all summer.”

“Travel while you’ve got the time,” she says, smiling at them both. “Congratulations, have a great trip.”

Zayn smiles back and thanks her and Niall thanks her again for the picture, and as she walks away Niall puts it on Facebook and makes it his profile picture, holding it up to show Zayn. Zayn never goes on Facebook but when they get back to the car he goes on and likes it. Harry’s already commented with _this is a sweet picture. ;)_ and Liam and Louis have both liked it as well, and Zayn misses them all quite a bit.

The hotel sits on a stretch of road with houses on one side of the street and hazy purple mountains off in the distance on the other side. Zayn parks the car and they sit for a minute, looking out over the trees, watching the mountains and not saying anything. Zayn’s a little startled when Niall says, “I’ll go check in,” and Zayn just sits in the car and looks out the window until Niall comes back with a key.

The room is on the second floor and they’ve got a red, white and blue banner draped from the balcony railing. Niall is laying on his back on the floor when Zayn gets all their bags in; the room is freezing and when Zayn goes over to turn down the air conditioner Niall says, “Couldn’t figure it out. Good luck.” And Zayn tries but it’s a new unit and has too many buttons, and he’s just too exhausted to think straight. He sits on the bed and falls back onto his back. “You want another shirt, I’ve brought spares.”

Niall drags himself up and crawls over to his suitcase, pulls out an old worn out sweatshirt and tosses it to Zayn. It lands on Zayn’s head and he laughs and sits up and holds it up, and it’s the sweatshirt Zayn had gotten him from for Christmas last year. The wrist cuffs are stretched and frayed and across the front it says _UAL Chelsea_ in white faded letters, and Zayn says, “Oh, I love this shirt.” 

Niall turns the television on and flips through the channels and he stops at an infomercial. “It’s my favorite,” he says, and there’s a bit of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Look at this, a way to boil your eggs without the shell.”

Zayn puts the sweatshirt on and curls up in the other bed and watches for a while, but his eyes are heavy even though it’s barely dark outside. He falls asleep in his clothes and dreams of being on a plane, reaching out the window and grabbing handfuls of the clouds. “Zayn, Zayn,” Niall says, and when Zayn looks over the plane is empty save for the two of them. Zayn tries to answer but he can’t find any words; he locks eyes with Niall and he feels frozen. “Aren’t they soft?” Zayn hands Niall a handful of the clouds and when their hands make contact there’s an electric shock; Zayn looks down and suddenly he’s holding a handful of tiny lightning bolts. When he looks back up Niall is gone, and he’s alone.

Zayn wakes up at two in the morning and the telly is scrolling through program listings, and Niall is asleep on his stomach with his head at the foot of his bed. Zayn gets up and turns the television off, changes into a pair of basketball shorts. He puts a hand on Niall’s shoulder but then decides to let him sleep, and he pulls the scratchy comforter up over him as best he can. He collapses back into his own bed and dozes fitfully for a couple of hours; he wakes before the sun comes up with thoughts of ice blue lightning bolts but can’t remember why.

He smokes a couple of cigarettes on the balcony before Niall wakes up, watches the sky go from purple to orange to pink to blue; Niall leans in the doorway and says, “Morning, you’re going to kill yourself with those things,” and then he takes the one Zayn’s smoking and takes a couple of drags off of it. He sits down in the other chair.

“You’re a hypocrite,” Zayn says. He takes a long drag and holds it in, focuses on the way it burns in his lungs before he exhales slowly. “What time is it?”

“Half six,” Niall says softly. “Too fuckin’ early.”

Zayn nods and finishes his cigarette, stubs it out in the ash tray. “I can’t sleep anymore, I’ve been up for ages.” 

Niall nods and slouches low in his chair, laces his hands together over his belly and squints out over the parking lot. “I’ve got a craving for donuts,” Niall says, “so I looked it up, and d’you know there’s like, fifty Dunkin’ Donuts within like, ten minutes of this hotel here?”

Zayn laughs and says, “Fifty, really?” He looks over at Niall and Niall’s watching him, smiling, and Zayn licks his lips and looks back out over the railing; his heart starts racing a bit.

“I need donuts,” Niall says. “Maybe we’ll just hit ‘em all. I dunno.”

They check out of the motel before nine and make a stop at the petrol station next door to fill up. Niall goes inside to get coffee while Zayn is filling the tank and when he’s not back by the time Zayn’s done, Zayn goes in too and finds him standing in front of the beer cooler.

“I was hoping you’d come in, I’m fuckin’ lost,” Niall says. “What kind of beer do heathens drink?”

Zayn pushes his shoulder and says they can buy beer tonight, it’ll be warm by the time they get to the campground anyway, and Niall laughs and follows him back out to the car. They stop off at a Dunkin Donuts too and Niall leans across Zayn and says, “Mix ‘em up! Surprise us, please!” when they ask what type of donuts Zayn would like in the dozen. Zayn shoves him back over to his seat and apologizes to the speaker but he’s laughing, and when he pulls up to the window he apologizes again but the girl at the window is laughing, too.

Niall puts Beyonce on his iPod once they’re on the highway and he dances in his seat with the box of donuts on his lap. He’s wearing Zayn’s sunglasses and he sings along at the top of his lungs; Zayn rolls the windows down and he has to squint into the sun while he’s driving but this, he imagines, must be what paradise feels like. Niall hands him pieces of the donuts and they finish off eight of them before Zayn pushes Niall’s hand away. “This one's got _sprinkles_ , Zayn,” Niall says like Zayn’s just committed a heinous crime by refusing donuts.

“I’m gonna puke,” Zayn says. 

Niall finishes the donut and closes the box up, reaches back and puts it in the backseat. He puts his hand out the window and taps the roof as Zayn drives; they’re on a long stretch of highway with nothing to look at but trees, and Zayn likes the feeling of the unknown that stretches out in front of them. It feels controlled, somehow, but unknown enough that he can focus his energy on that rather than the unknown that waits back home.

Niall clears his throat as they pass a sign that says their exit is two miles out, and Zayn realizes the car is silent; the music’s ended but he’s not sure when. “Zayn,” Niall says, and the way he says it makes Zayn feel like he’s already said it once or twice, maybe.

“Sorry,” Zayn says, “what?”

“Where’d you go, just now??” Niall asks. He’s turned in his seat so he has his back against the door, and he’s pushed the sunglasses up on top of his head like a headband. “What on _earth_ is more thought provoking than Beyonce?” He’s scrolling through his iPod. “Your forehead’s all creased. Worries me a bit.”

“Worries you a bit,” Zayn says, smiling. “It’s nothing to worry over.”

“You’re not thinkin’ about where to drop me so you can take this trip alone, then,” Niall says, and Zayn rolls his eyes.

“Yep, that’s it,” Zayn says. “Can’t fool you.”

“Those’re worry lines,” Niall says, a bit softer, and Zayn sighs. Exit seven, one mile. He doesn’t say anything until they get to the exit, and Niall is kind enough to wait. 

“I think I’ve lost my way, like,” Zayn finally says, but he’s not sure how to finish.

“What, now?” Niall says. He looks at Zayn and then out the front window and frowns. “I think this is the right way.”

Zayn shakes his head. “No, like. In life. In general.” He’s quiet for a while and then he says, “My dad says I’m a wanderer.” 

“Nothing wrong with that,” Niall says, "you're worried about that?"

"Not worried," Zayn says, "just."

Niall studies his iPod for a bit longer and puts on Sam Smith, something slow that Zayn’s not very familiar with but it settles him anyway, makes him feel grounded. “One thing I’ve learned,” Niall finally says, “one thing I’ve learned is you should do what makes you happy. Fuck everybody else, y’know? And dads, don't get me started on 'em. _Mine_ thinks I’d be a good solicitor. Me. A _solicitor_!”

Zayn laughs. “You’d be so persuasive,” he says. Niall’s dad isn’t completely wrong.

Niall laughs too. “That’s what he says!” He puts his sunglasses back on. "Dads, man," he says, shaking his head. He hums along with the music for a verse and Zayn recognizes the chorus; Niall sings along, his voice soft and a little raspy. 

“So what’ll you be instead, then?” Zayn asks.

“Who says we’ve got to be anything?” Niall says. He’s quiet for a long time after that and Zayn doesn’t say anything either, and then Niall says, “You'll be an artist. Sure of it," and it sends a shiver down Zayn's spine with its sincerity.

They make their next stop at Lost River Gorge, deep in the woods of New Hampshire. Zayn parks the car and they walk across ravines on rickety wooden bridges; they get a map of the caves with their tickets and Niall thinks it’d be fun to explore but he peers into the first one they come to and shudders, says, “Oh, no.” 

“This is horrible,” Zayn says softly, and he takes a step closer to Niall. Kids are going into the caves and laughing like they’ve got no fears in the world, and Zayn studies the map. One of the caves is called the Lemon Squeeze and Zayn says, “What if someone gets caught in there, what d’you reckon,” but Niall is shaking his head and so Zayn just lets himself wonder silently. 

They walk down a long set of stairs and Zayn snaps a picture of Niall from behind with the waterfalls in the distance. Niall pulls Zayn in for a selfie on a bridge high over the river and Zayn holds tight to Niall’s hip and hopes he doesn’t drop his phone over the edge. On the way out they stop off at a little stand and they buy a couple of bags of mining rough; they stand shoulder to shoulder at the sluice and Zayn watches the water as it washes through his tray. Niall elbows him and nods to a sign nailed to a post and says in an American accent, “Collecting gemstones and fossils is exciting for all ages!”

Zayn laughs and elbows him back and Niall finds two small sparkling purple stones at the bottom of his tray, and Zayn leans close to look at his own and says, “Oh hey, is this a shark’s tooth?”

The air is heavy all afternoon and they wind up at a campsite down the road for the night. Niall sets up the tent while Zayn watches and then he teaches Zayn how to start a campfire. Zayn crouches down next to Niall while Niall lights a couple of pieces of newspaper with Zayn’s lighter, and then adds pine branches and dry wood to feed the flames. Zayn’s not sure Niall’s even been camping before but he seems to know everything about it. Zayn feels lost.

They’d grabbed hotdogs and beer and a bag of marshmallows at the convenience store and Niall finds two long sticks in the woods. He puts marshmallows on both sticks and shows Zayn how to roast one perfectly; Niall leans forward in his seat and holds the sticks just above the flames, barely even touching, and when he takes them back out the marshmallows are golden brown and perfectly toasted. He hands one of the sticks over to Zayn and says, “Just eat it all at once, like this,” and he eats his right off the stick, inhaling a little through his mouth.

Zayn does the same thing and the outside is dry and crisp and smoky; the inside is gooey and hot and he burns his tongue but it’s alright, he figures. Part of the experience. Niall puts another marshmallow on Zayn’s stick and Zayn tries to roast one too but he holds it too close to the flames and it catches fire. 

“Oh, oh,” Niall says, “take it out, quick,” and Zayn does and it’s just a big ball of sickly sweet flames at the end of his stick. Niall laughs and Zayn blows on it until the flames go out but the outside is black like coal and Niall laughs louder. 

“Gross,” Zayn says, scrunching his nose, and Niall reaches over and takes the stick and holds it between his knees, carefully pulls the black part off and leaves a big glob of gooey marshmallow behind. “Try again,” Niall says, “a bit further away from the fire.” He does and it still comes out darker than Niall’s but it doesn’t catch fire so overall Zayn considers it a success.

They’re up early the next morning before the sun’s up and Zayn turns the headlights on to help Niall pack up the site. Niall is griping about how he’s disappointed they didn’t see a bear and Zayn thinks thank god he didn’t know that they _could’ve_ seen a bear. “I mean,” Niall says, “wouldn’t that’ve been a hell of a story?”

Niall takes over driving and they go until the sky starts to get light and stop at an overpass, park at the end of a long lot and sit on the hood of the car. They pass a cigarette back and forth and Zayn feels settled as the sun comes up over the mountains; he has to squint in the sunlight and then Niall says, “I could get used to this.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Zayn says, and he looks over at Niall and smiles. “What if we fall in love with this adventure?”

Niall gets a strange look in his eyes for a split second but Zayn blinks and it’s gone and he thinks maybe he’s imagining things. Niall looks back out over the trees and says, “Think it might be too late,” and Zayn feels the same way but it feels more complicated, somehow.

Once they cross back into Massachusetts they stop off at a diner for breakfast, and then another one in Connecticut for lunch. They stop for gas before they cross into New York and Zayn goes in to get a couple drinks and snacks. When he comes back out Niall is sitting sideways in the passenger seat with the door open, his feet flat on the ground, and he’s doodling in a little notebook they've been using to jot things down. He looks up when Zayn hands him a bottle of water and smiles bright; when Zayn looks at the page it’s filled with dicks. “Was tryin’ to see how many I could fit before you came back,” Niall says like he’s proud of himself. Zayn kinda wants to rip the page out but there’s really something charming about it in a weird way so he just grins at Niall and gets back in the car.

Niall drives them into Brooklyn and Zayn has his hands curled tight into fists, fingernails digging into his palms. He can’t keep the roads straight and Niall takes the turns too quickly and he has never been more relieved to see a car park in his entire life. They pay and get their bags out and Zayn feels like they’ve packed them full of bricks; he sighs and pulls his backpack on and Niall hails a cab like he’s been a New Yorker all this time and Zayn’d had no idea. “Look at you,” Zayn says, and Niall grins at him.

They put their bags in the boot and Zayn gets in the back seat and closes his eyes while Niall takes the front seat with the driver. He gives the address of the hotel and spends the entire ride asking him for recommendations of the best places to go; bakeries and shows and nightclubs. Zayn opens his eyes when the car shifts into park, and when he opens his eyes there’s so much going on outside that he feels dizzy. They’re parked in front of a huge blue sign for the Hilton, and everywhere Zayn looks there are flashing lights and oversized signs; there’s an Applebee’s and a Money Exchange, and down the street is Madame Tussaud’s. Tucked in under the blue sign is the hotel door and Zayn is positively speechless. “Home sweet home,” Niall says as he pays the driver, “thanks, mate!”

“Enjoy your stay,” the driver says. Zayn forces himself to get out of the car and he stands on the sidewalk and looks up, up, up to the tops of the tallest buildings he’s ever seen; he can’t believe they’re actually standing in the middle of New York City.

“Oi,” Niall calls, and Zayn turns to see him struggling with the bags. “What am I, your concierge?”

Zayn laughs and reaches for one of the bags at the same time Niall does and he ends up grabbing Niall’s hand while Niall grabs the handle of the bag. Zayn pulls back too quick, like it’s red hot or something, and Niall looks up at him quick before pulling the bag out and putting it on the sidewalk. He closes the boot and Zayn pulls his backpack on and clears his throat. “So, this is it?” he says, too loud, but there’s enough happening on the street that Niall doesn’t seem to notice, and they go inside.

Their room is on the thirty-fourth floor; it has one huge king bed and Zayn drops his bags at the door and walks over to the window. “Shit,” Niall breathes, stepping up beside him. “That’s the Empire State Building, off that way.”

Zayn looks down and the cars look like toys this high up. “This is fucking insane,” Zayn whispers, and he presses his hands to the windowsill and wonders how long it’d take to get to the ground if they fell out the window, or if New York City is so magical that they’d just catch the wind and fly away. 

Niall touches his fingertips to the small of Zayn’s back and says, softly, “Let’s just,” but he doesn’t finish and Zayn finally looks over at him. His eyelids are heavy, dark shadows blooming under his eyes, and Zayn has never wanted to sleep more in his life. Niall changes in the bathroom and Zayn’s closed the blinds and he’s sitting on the edge of the bed when Niall comes out. Niall turns the lights out and the television on as Zayn pulls the covers back, and they crawl into bed and the clock on the nightstand says it’s not even half six. “How old are we?” Niall asks, and Zayn laughs loud.

They watch reruns of American comedies and Zayn closes his eyes during the breaks; Niall inches closer and closer and finally Zayn stretches his arm out and Niall winds up laying his head on Zayn’s shoulder, his hair tickling Zayn’s neck. Niall hugs him around the waist, loose, and Zayn swallows and breathes deep, memorizes the way this feels. "Can I tell you something?" Niall says, his voice soft with sleep, hazy.

"Course you can," Zayn says. 

"Your dad's crazy," Niall whispers. "'Bout you being a wanderer."

"Nah," Zayn says, "I've got no direction yet, really, he's alright. Think he wanted me to be a teacher or something, I think he doesn't really understand the whole art thing."

Niall shakes his head and sighs. "The whole art _thing_ ," he says softly. "That beautiful thing, stop sellin' yourself so short." He sighs again, longer this time, and then he whispers, "You're so fuckin' brilliant, he's crazy for not...not seein' that."

Niall's breathing goes deep and slow and Zayn's heart is racing; Niall can probably hear it, could probably have heard it if he’d been awake but just like that he’s snoring softly, draped across Zayn, fast asleep. It hits him then, with breathtaking clarity, that he's falling in love with Niall. He’s falling hard and fast and he feels blindsided by it and wonders if it's been happening for longer than he’s known; maybe it's been going on for months and he’s just now realizing it, thirty-four stories above 42nd Street while a rerun of Friends plays in the background.

Zayn sleeps fitfully, lightly; he dreams of jumping from the window and falling endlessly, never hitting the ground, and he jumps himself awake to find the television showing more infomercials. Niall is still snoring and still draped across him, face buried in Zayn’s neck, and a horn honks long and distant from the street. Zayn closes his eyes and listens to the telly, the drone of toll free numbers and four easy payments playing on an endless loop. They seep into his dreams once he’s able to doze off but this time Niall is the one talking and he smiles at Zayn through the television screen with bright eyes and perfect teeth; he says, “Just three easy payments,” and then he pauses and says, “It’s easy, come with me.” He holds his hand out through the glass and Zayn isn’t sure what’s easy or where they’re going but he takes Niall’s hand anyway, and then everything goes white and he opens his eyes to the sound of the shower running, bright sunlight shining in through the breaks in the curtains.

He fixes coffee that’s done by the time Niall is out of the shower, and his eyes are bright like a dream and he looks well rested. He smiles at Zayn. “Mornin’!” he says. “You’ve made coffee!” Zayn wants to punch him, he sounds so cheery.

Once Zayn’s showered they head out to find real coffee at a shop Niall’s bookmarked in his guidebook; the coffee Zayn’s made tastes like absolute rubbish. “It’s the powdered cream,” he keeps insisting, and then in front of them is Herald Square and Niall slows to a stop on the sidewalk.

“Uh oh,” Niall says, and he looks up at the nearest street sign. It turns out they’ve gone seven blocks in the wrong direction down Broadway, and Zayn sighs and gives Niall a look. “The streets are numbered,” Niall says seriously. “You should’ve caught it.”

“ _I_ should’ve caught it?” Zayn says. “You’re the navigator, why’s it my job to catch things?”

“Quality control!” Niall says, indignant. He walks over to a bench and sits down, takes out his phone and studies the screen. “I don’t really wanna go all the way back for coffee, there’s got to be someplace else, don’t ya think?”

“Right,” Zayn says. He stands in front of Niall with his arms crossed and kicks the toe of Niall’s shoe; Niall kicks back blindly and his foot connects hard with Zayn’s shin and Zayn scrunches up his nose. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” Niall says, “sorry, sorry.” It sounds sincere but he doesn’t look up from his phone.

“Sometimes I think you love tea more than you love me,” Zayn says, sitting down and rubbing his shin.

“Sometimes I do,” Niall says, and he stands up and puts his phone back in his pocket. “You can be really moody, it’s a turn-off.” He starts walking again, in the same direction they’d been going, and Zayn follows a few paces behind. 

They end up at an old building with steps that go down into a tea shop. Zayn stands on the sidewalk and looks up through the fire escapes and wonders what it’s like to live here; Niall elbows him and Zayn looks over, and Niall says, “I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been.” Zayn watches him for a long time, frowning, and Niall plays a bit of air guitar and says, “Zeppelin. That’s _Zeppelin_.” He says it slowly like Zayn’s never heard the words before in his life. “Led Zeppelin.”

To be fair, Zayn doesn’t really know anything about Led Zeppelin and so he says, “I don’t really,” but Niall holds up a hand and closes his eyes because they’ve been over this before.

“Don’t you dare,” he says, and he looks to be in physical pain. “Don’t even say another word.” He opens his eyes and looks at Zayn again and Zayn’s stomach does this obnoxious little flip-flop because Niall smiles big and says, “C’mon, I forgive you, let’s go in.”

The menu is enormous and they debate for a while, going back and forth between English and Irish Breakfast and quietly arguing over which is better – Zayn prefers the flavor of English Breakfast and Niall prefers how much superior Ireland is in every way, be it in football or alcohol or breakfast teas with the word _Irish_ in the name – and finally Zayn says, “This is _American_ Irish tea, it’s probably nothing like you’re used to.”

“Fine!” Niall says, waving a hand at Zayn. “Fine. Let’s just split a pot of,” and then he closes his eyes and points blindly at the menu. They wind up splitting a pot of vanilla black and sitting at a small table under a painting of George Harrison, and once the tea has steeped long enough Niall pours two cups and Zayn curls his hands around his even though it’s hot and humid outside. 

Zayn finishes almost a full cup while Niall goes on and on about what they should do for the day, where they should go and what routes to take to get there. “Your tea’ll be cold,” Zayn says when Niall stops talking to take a sip. “We can do whatever, like.”

“We can do whatever,” Niall says in an accent that Zayn’s pretty sure is supposed to be _his_ accent; Niall smirks at him. “What kind of whatever, then?”

Zayn is quiet for a minute. “It’d be nice to see the library,” he says finally. “Maybe the Statue of Liberty. I’d like to bring home a little one, like.” He holds a finger a couple inches up from the table and smiles. “A tiny one.”

“Yes!” Niall says, and he sounds delighted. “Yes, we’ll buy tiny statues. What else??”

By the time they finish their tea, they’ve filled a napkin with notes of things to see in the city and Zayn’s toes are thrumming with energy. They take a selfie in front of the shop and then Niall says, “Let’s walk, d’you wanna just walk?” so they decide to walk to the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty.

It takes them a full hour to walk to the ferry. Niall stops and buys some water halfway there and Zayn says, “We’re taking a cab back, mate.” The statue is cool to see, once they get to it, but as they stand at the base and look up at it, Niall says softly, “She’s huge,” and he sounds a bit unsettled. Zayn feels a bit unsettled; once they’re back on the ferry he looks back at it and she really is fucking enormous. “That was kinda,” he says but he trails off because Niall’s still got a little bit of magic in his eyes. “Surreal,” Zayn says after a second, and Niall looks over at him and smiles.

They do take a cab back to the city, and they walk from the Public Library on to Madison Square Garden, and then as they’re turning the corner onto 42nd Street, Niall says, “Hey, the wax museum!” They duck inside and get lost amongst real people and wax people; Niall makes Zayn take his picture with Katy Perry and Tyra and Barack Obama, and Niall takes pictures of Zayn with Picasso and then they both take pictures with ET on the bike. “On the bike!” Niall says with a tinge of disbelief. “Sick.”

And then they walk down a hallway and suddenly there’s an enormous Hulk and Ironman and – “Spiderman,” Niall breathes, and Zayn feels like he’s six years old. “Stand right there!” Niall instructs him and he takes every possible picture of Zayn with the figures and Zayn even poses for some of them and he never wants to go home.

When they get back to the hotel, Zayn’s feet are aching but he feels full, buzzing with energy, and he collapses onto his back on the bed and says to the ceiling, “Maybe we should go out tonight.” Niall’s on his phone before Zayn can sit up and he’s got a list of clubs and bars pulled up immediately. He moves to sit next to Zayn and they sit there, shoulder to shoulder, scrolling through the list until Niall finds one called Posh. “Posssh,” Niall says, rolling his eyes, “you’ll probably get in and I’ll be left waiting at the door for someone to take pity on me.”

“Oh, right,” Zayn says, shoving him gently. “I’ll leave you at the door, like. Why would I do that?”

“You’re too beautiful,” Niall says, and he sighs dramatically and pouts at Zayn. Zayn’s stomach does that stupid flip again and he shakes his head. “And I’m a _troll_ ,” Niall carries on, and Zayn groans and shoves him again, harder.

“I’m going by myself, you’re _embarrassing_ ,” he says, but then Niall laughs and Zayn laughs too. They wear nice shirts and Zayn puts on some cologne and Niall gets up close and presses his nose right to Zayn’s neck, inhales deep. “Smells nice,” he says softly, and he meets Zayn’s eye and Zayn thinks he may be blushing.

They decide to take the metro to Posh and Niall stands in front of the map for an entirely too short amount of time before nodding towards a row of kiosks. “Cmon,” he says while Zayn keeps frowning at the map, “this way.” He puts some cash into the machine and hits a few buttons on the screen and out pops a metro card. “We’ll share this one,” he says, and he leads Zayn over to the turnstiles and swipes the card, walks through and hands it back to Zayn. Zayn swipes it and there’s a buzz and a red light; he looks up and pouts at Niall and Niall says, “Try it again.” He tries it again; buzzer, red light.

“I’m stuck out here,” Zayn says, already giving up. “Go on without me.”

Niall rolls his eyes and reaches over the turnstile, grabs the card and swipes it at an awkward angle and the light turns green; Zayn walks through and grins. 

The car is crowded and Niall stands near the door and holds the rail over his head. He looks like a proper New Yorker, like he’s not even paying attention to the way the train rumbles across rough patches on the tracks and jerks a bit going around corners. Niall loves riding the tube back home, sometimes just getting on and going back and forth from nowhere to nowhere. He looks out the window now and he’s humming, and then as they get to their stop he grins at Zayn and sings softly, “Concrete jungle where dreams are made of.”

“Mmm, no,” Zayn says, frowning for effect as he pretends to think. “I think it’s wet dream tomato.” He stumbles as the train stops and Niall reflexively puts his hand on Zayn’s hip, steadies him; Zayn’s heart thumps loud in his ear for a split second, a flash. He swallows hard.

“What??” Niall laughs loud and shakes his head. “No. It's not. No.”

“Yeah, think it is,” Zayn says, squinting a bit as they step off the train. He pretends to concentrate on the signs for the exit so he doesn’t start laughing. “New York, concrete jungle wet dream tomato,” he sings, and he shrugs. “I think those are the words, mate.”

Niall laughs hard and elbows him, says," _Zayn_ , those are _not_ the words," and Zayn squints as Niall takes the steps two at a time; Zayn follows him up to the street and says, "I'm pretty sure that's the words, like," and he can’t stop smiling.

There’s a bit of a line outside Posh and Niall shifts from foot to foot, nervous energy pent up inside him like he’s just dying to let it out. “If they don’t let me in,” he says, leaning close, “you’ll have to text me. Tell me what it’s like behind the velvet rope.”

They both get in, of course, and it’s noisy and dark, crowded and tiny; Zayn feels Niall’s hand on his hip as they move slow through the crowd. He reaches back and wraps his hand around Niall’s wrist, squeezes softly as he steps up to the bar. He pulls Niall up to stand beside him and Niall is uneasy, Zayn can tell in the way he’s got his hands curled into fists against the edge of the bar. Zayn leans close and says, “It's alright,” and Niall looks sideways and smiles at him, and presses his hands flat to the bar.

They wind up ordering shots and they’re too sweet and too dangerous; Zayn downs three or four before everything in the bar starts to turn blurry; he’s blinking too slowly and everything looks like it’s sparkling. Niall is already swaying a bit when Justin Timberlake comes on from the DJ booth. “Ohhh,” he says, grinning at Zayn, and he sings in a terrible falsetto, “All I want is you, baby.”

“Dance with me,” Zayn says, and the music thuds heavy in the soles of his feet, seductive. He licks his lips and Niall’s eyes dart down to them, quick, but before Zayn can catch up Niall’s grabbed his hand and he’s pulling him back away from the bar, further in and closer to the music. Zayn feels like he’s floating but he lets himself follow Niall until Niall stops all of a sudden and turns and faces him. He hooks his fingers in Zayn’s belt loops and suddenly every single one of Zayn’s senses are heightened, ultra-sensitive, alert. 

Zayn swallows hard and Niall tugs at his belt loops, leans in close and says or almost shouts, really, “I can’t feel my toes.” His lips brush Zayn’s earlobe and it’s too hot in here but Zayn shivers anyway, and he’s suddenly and overwhelmingly desperate for more contact. His hands are buzzing and he just wants to touch Niall, needs to touch him; he feels like nothing is enough and like nothing can ever be enough, and isn’t it all just terrifying?

Zayn puts his hands on the sides of Niall’s neck and leans close to Niall’s ear and says, “I want to try kissing you.” He says it way too loud but the music dulls it down enough where Niall just leans back enough to lock eyes with him. Zayn presses his thumbs behind Niall’s ears and feels the rhythm of the music in his pulse; the lyrics go _I will love you like I’ve never been hurt_ and Zayn thinks yes, yes.

He watches Niall through the entire chorus and he feels as if he could push the rhythm out of the air, the way time’s standing still in this moment. Niall watches him for ages and then finally he licks his lips and nods, so Zayn leans in and kisses him.

It feels like lightning when Niall kisses back, his hands on Zayn’s hips; like sparks of electricity over every inch of his body, and Zayn wonders fuzzily if this was what he’d been dreaming of., last night, and if Niall feels it, too. Niall nips at Zayn’s bottom lip before pulling back a little, and he looks up and meets Zayn’s eyes again but he doesn’t say anything so Zayn just laces his hands together at the back of Niall’s neck and presses a kiss to his forehead as the music plays on.

And it feels endless, impossible; the night just keeps going like nothing’s changed, even though Zayn feels as if everything between them has shifted, everything has changed. He kisses Niall again to the words _it’s just you and I tonight, why don’t you figure my heart out,_ and he’s not even sure there’s anyone else left in all of New York City, in the entire world. He wonders fleetingly if he’ll remember this in the morning and then Niall leans in and kisses him and Zayn wonders how he could ever forget.

“Let’s get out of here,” Niall says, barely loud enough to be heard over the music or maybe it’s the beat of Zayn’s heart; he’s not entirely sure. Niall’s still got his hands on Zayn’s waist and he’s swaying to the music, drunk and out of balance and completely off the rhythm, and it’s endearing as fuck. Zayn takes both of Niall’s hands and leads them towards the door. He thinks about stopping off at the bar one last time but he can barely see straight so instead they go outside. The air is cool and misty-damp and Niall lets go of one of Zayn’s hands and falls into place next to him, stumbling a little over his own feet. He links his fingers with Zayn’s and it’s like the click of a lock, the way they fit together; Niall starts to say, “The metro’s this way,” but he trails off and laughs a little and says, “Maybe let’s walk for a bit.” So they walk.

They walk towards bright lights and music in the distance; Zayn’s ears are ringing and Niall swings their hands and sings a bit of Katy Perry. They zigzag streets at all the crosswalks and then they walk a few blocks next to Central Park. “Let’s come back in the winter,” Zayn says, and he pulls Niall close and puts his free hand on Niall’s elbow. “Go ice skating in the park.”

“I’d break my arse,” Niall says, and he laughs, loud and a bit sloppy; Zayn’s stomach flips and he wonders, is it really this easy to fall desperately in love? The idea makes him nervous and then Niall says, “You can’t even see the stars, look up,” and Zayn does and he feels dizzy. There are stars up there, he’s sure, but the city lights are too bright to make them out and he feels like they’re standing on the edge of eternity; he stops walking and Niall stops walking too and then he kisses Zayn’s throat, the curve of his chin. “Your face is scratchy,” Zayn says, not looking down, “d’you think there’s anything up there?”

“Everything,” Niall says, and he tugs at Zayn’s hand. “C’mon.”

Once they’ve gotten back to the hotel, Niall swipes the room key twice and gets a red light both times; Zayn takes it and says, “Like this,” and he swipes it and gets a red light, too. Niall is giggling and leaning against his side by the time he swipes it a third time and it finally flashes green. “Get in,” Zayn mutters, but he’s smiling so hard it feels as though his cheeks will crack open.

Niall trips over his feet as he walks in and Zayn starts laughing before the door clicks shut behind them, and then Zayn goes to sit on the bed but he’s too close to the end and he loses his balance and falls on his back on the floor. “Owww,” he says as Niall positively _explodes_ with laughter but it’s got to be contagious because soon they’re both laughing until they’re breathless.

Finally Zayn sits up and rubs the back of his head and once he catches his breath he says, “You’re not even going to help me up, what kind of friend are you?”

“You’re young, you’ll be fine,” Niall says. Zayn stands up and takes in the scene, because Niall is on his back on the bed, his pants unbuttoned and halfway down his thighs. “I can’t get these off,” Niall says, almost a whine, and Zayn collapses onto the bed next to him. “Help me.”

“Nope,” Zayn says. He turns onto his side and presses his hand flat to Niall’s belly, and Niall inhales softly and closes his eyes. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Niall doesn’t open his eyes. “Isn’t the room spinning?”

It’s not but it does feel like it is, Zayn thinks. “I dunno,” he says, and he leans over and kisses Niall’s shoulder tentatively. The alcohol is already starting to fade away, a mix of time and the fresh nighttime air, and he swallows hard.

It’s quiet for a long time before Niall opens his eyes and says to the ceiling, “You don’t have to stop,” in a whisper like the breeze; Zayn’s not sure he hasn’t misheard him. He turns his head to look at Zayn. “I mean.”

Zayn sits up and the room really is spinning now; he closes his eyes and tries to focus on something, anything, but all he can think of is Niall and it just makes the room spin faster. “If you could spend one night with anybody in the world,” he says as he tries to steady himself, “who would it be?”

“Living or dead?” Niall asks without missing a beat.

“Either,” Zayn says. “Living. Dead would be creepy.”

“Hmm, dead would be creepy,” Niall says sleepily. He pokes Zayn in the back. “You. Always.”

“We’ve spent plenty of nights together,” Zayn says softly. He reaches down and finishes getting Niall’s jeans off, tosses them onto the floor and takes his own jeans off and tosses those, too.

Niall sighs and when Zayn looks back at him, he’s burrowing under the covers, eyes closed. Zayn turns the lights out and crawls under the covers on the other side, curls up on his side facing Niall. He watches him for a while until his eyes feel heavy, and then Niall says, “Sometimes the simplest answer is the right answer, y’know?” He’s quiet for another long while and then he sighs again and says, “What’s that called, that’s a thing.”

“Occam’s razor,” Zayn whispers. He wants to touch every inch of Niall, wants to press his fingers to the dips between his ribs and run his hands over the curves of his knees, the muscles at the backs of his shoulders. He wants to memorize the curves and the sharp edges, press his palms to Niall’s sides and kiss along his jaw and whisper _hush, shh, let’s just be this way forever_.

“Mmhmm,” Niall breathes, “right.” Another sigh. “You’re always the answer,” he whispers, words slurred in the seconds before sleep. “Always the simplest one.” He reaches out and wraps his fingers around Zayn’s wrist; Zayn feels halfway to dreaming already but he knows he’s not dreaming, that this is somehow real life. Niall sighs again and moves closer until his knees knock with Zayn’s knees; he’s snoring before Zayn can say anything back.

Zayn usually can’t really sleep on his side but he falls asleep anyway and dreams vivid sparkling dreams filled with Niall, Niall, Niall. They’re at the top of the Statue of Liberty at night and the lights of the city are bright but still far enough away that they can see the stars. They’re shoulder to shoulder on one of the points on top of her head; Zayn looks at Niall and Niall is wearing sunglasses even though it’s nighttime. Someone, somewhere, is playing the piano and Niall looks over at Zayn and says, “Let’s dance,” but before Zayn can answer he wakes up, startled, back in the hotel room; it’s early and his head is pounding.

Niall wakes up slowly, groaning and pulling the covers over his head. Zayn starts a pot of coffee and showers; by the time he comes back out Niall is sitting up in bed with sunglasses on, and Zayn smiles a little and says, “Morning.”

“I’m dying,” Niall whispers. “Here’s an idea. Bash me over the head, knock me out, carry me to the car. Then wake me up when we get to where we’re going.”

Zayn doesn’t do that, but he does end up packing both of their bags to get them out before noon. He carries his own backpack over his shoulder and carries Niall’s bag in one hand; Niall wears one of Zayn’s hoodies and has both hands in the pockets, unusually quiet as they wait for a cab. They sit together in the backseat once they get a car and Niall gives the driver the address of the garage, and Zayn is starting to worry something’d gone wrong the night before when Niall reaches over and takes his hand. There’s more to it than there’d been last night, and Zayn focuses on the feel of Niall’s palm against his palm, their fingers linked loosely together. It feels familiar, somehow, and Zayn already can’t quite remember the way things were when they’d started on this trip.

The drive through Pennsylvania is boring as fuck. The stretches of highway are long and flat but Niall lets Zayn pick almost all the music so long as he sings along with whatever he chooses, so Zayn puts on the newest Demi Lovato album and Niall doesn’t even ask how he knows all the words to all the songs. They get held up for a half hour behind a wreck that’s got both lanes blocked off, and after a few minutes Zayn puts the car in park and Niall takes out his phone and finds a website with a bunch of getting to know you questions. They get through a few before Niall goes quiet and Zayn looks over at him and says, “Alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Niall says. “Just thinkin’.”

“Think out loud, then,” Zayn says. Traffic begins to inch forward but he still sees just a steady stream of red, red, red, and then Niall says, “Most memorable night of your life.” There’s a bit of a pause and then Niall adds, softer, “Don’t think, just answer.”

“Last night was pretty great,” Zayn says softly, careful. He doesn’t think about that answer, really, but then once he says it he feels a tug of worry in his chest, like _is that what he wants to hear or maybe not?_ He shifts the car back into drive and focuses on the traffic.

“”twas,” Niall says finally. He’s studying the book like he’s going to be tested on it, flips to the next page and clears his throat. “What’s your favorite season?”

Traffic begins moving again, slowly; they drive on.

Zayn reckons his favorite season is summer and Niall hems and haws over his favorite childhood memory before he finally decides on the time he’d knocked Greg into the fireplace and cracked his head wide open. He laughs and says, “Fuckin’ blood _everywhere_ ,” and leans back against the headrest; Zayn laughs too and he takes Niall’s free hand as they keep driving past Philadelphia.

“There’s loads of history there,” Zayn says a few minutes later, because he would’ve put money on Niall having Philadelphia on his list. Niall’s let go of his hand and he’s scrolling through his phone, and Zayn feels like he should pull off to the side of the road.

“Have you heard of Hershey?” Niall says, and he sits up in his seat a little, holds up his phone. Zayn doesn’t look over but he figures Niall’s got pictures or a map or something and then Niall says, “There’s a whole theme park, they say the town smells like chocolate.”

By the time they get to Hershey, Niall’s made a reservation at the Best Western and bought tickets for Hersheypark for tomorrow. He rolls his window down and takes deep breaths of fresh air and Zayn does too; he can’t quite smell the chocolate but he says, “Oh, hey, can you smell those notes of…coffee?” He takes another deep breath. “It’s bittersweet, yeah?” He can’t smell anything but exhaust fumes and fried foods but he keeps pretending can because it makes Niall laugh and he loves the way that sounds.

“I read online that the streetlamps look like chocolate kisses,” Niall says, leaning forward to peer up at them when they slow to a stop at a red light, but it’s just a normal streetlamp. “Huh.”

“Maybe closer to the park,” Zayn says. The road they’re on is called Chocolate Avenue; he takes another deep breath. “I can’t believe this wasn’t on your list.”

“Right?” Niall shakes his head and takes Zayn’s hand again. “Insane. Shoulda bought a book of food factories, imagine what we’ve missed already.”

By the time they’ve parked at the hotel, Niall has found that they’ve already missed cheese factories and breweries, a chocolate factory in Vermont and a candy factory in Massachusetts. “A whole candy factory,” Niall says, and he hums a song from Willy Wonka as he takes the bags from the backseat. 

Niall carries most of the bags and he gathers pamphlets from the racks near the door while Zayn checks in. Their room has two tiny beds and Zayn collapses onto his back on the one nearest to the door; the mattress is hard and unforgiving and he groans.

Niall drops the bags near the dresser and sits down on the other bed and says, “I’ve found somewhere to eat, there’s a diner nearby here.”

Zayn laughs and says, “We’ve been to all the diners, I think, aren’t you sick of them yet?”

“Nah, no,” Niall says. He gets up and swats Zayn in the forehead with a handful of brochures on his way to the bathroom, drops them onto the bed next to his ear. “Besides, we haven’t tried a Denny’s yet, have we?”

The diner is shiny silver with neon lights in the windows; it feels like they’ve traveled back in time. Zayn spends too long agonizing over the menu and finally Niall sighs and orders two chocolate malt shakes and an order of fries with chili. “That’s so unhealthy,” Zayn says, laughing, but when the waitress comes back he winds up ordering a Philly cheesesteak and Niall grins triumphantly.

Niall does a dot-to-dot on his placemat with a red crayon while they wait for their food and Zayn draws a cartoon of Niall doing the dot-to-dot on the back of his placemat. Niall doesn’t notice what he’s doing until Zayn’s coloring Niall’s hair green and then he leans over, watches him. “Sick,” Niall says softly, “can I have that, don’t toss that out.”

“It’s rubbish, no,” Zayn says, laughing a little, but he slides it over to Niall anyway and Niall folds it up and carefully tucks it into his wallet.

Zayn only finishes half his sandwich and Niall pokes at the rest of the fries for a while before he pushes the plate away and leans back. The waitress comes back and says, “Separate checks?” as she clears their plates, and Niall says, “Nah, just one,” before Zayn can say anything.

When she walks away Niall looks at Zayn and says, very serious, “This is a date.”

Zayn watches him for a second and says, “Is it.” He doesn’t mean it like a question except maybe he kind of does, but either way Niall grins and nods.

“It’s a good one,” he says, “don’t you think so?” The waitress comes back and drops off the check, and Niall grabs it before Zayn can even react. “I bought you a malt shake!”

“It’s like a date straight out of the fifties,” Zayn says.

“Should find a roller rink next,” Niall nods, “d’you know how to roller skate?”

Zayn doesn’t, thank god, and he stands a bit behind Niall as he pays for the food at the counter. He uses a heavier accent than he normally speaks with, blatantly flirts with the cashier and charms her endlessly and effortlessly. He buys a t-shirt and thanks her when she hands him the bag, turns back to Zayn with a big, bright smile. “You’re such a flirt,” Zayn says when they get outside. “I had no idea.”

“Look what I’ve bought you now,” Niall says, and he pulls the shirt out of the bag. It’s black and has the logo from the diner on the front, but when he turns it around Zayn laughs out loud. “ _I’m a soda jerk!_ ” Niall says in an exaggerated American accent. “I mean, ‘s not a bouquet of roses. Better than, I’d say.”

Zayn wants to wear it every day.

They drive back to the hotel and stop off at a liquor store on the way. Niall is going on about breakfast already and he opens the door for Zayn and says, “They’re not really waffles unless they’ve got whipped cream, pecans, chocolate.”

Zayn can barely even think about more food but he says, “Now all I want’s ice cream, like.”

Niall perks up and says, “Ice cream over alcohol??” and they look at each other for about a half second before Niall shakes his head and says, “No, nah, that’s crazy. C’mon.”

Niall goes off in search of acceptable beer while Zayn tries to decide between the flavors of rum – coconut and mango and pineapple, and then there’s also sundae and orange float and something called sunshine that makes him think immediately of Niall. He shakes his head and grabs a bottle of peppermint schnapps instead, and when he turns away from the case Niall is walking over to him, empty-handed and dejected. “What’s it take to find some solid beer in this country?” he grumbles.

Zayn buys the bottle of schnapps and after the cashier gives him his change he spots a cooler next to the register filled with single cans of beer; he grabs a can of Guinness and sees Niall grin from the corner of his eye. Zayn smiles apologetically at the cashier, says, “Sorry, just. This too, sorry.”

The cashier rings it through and Zayn fumbles through a handful of coins because he can’t quite remember which one is a quarter; Niall leans on the counter next to him and smirks but doesn’t even help him, to the point Zayn almost expects him to Instagram this moment. His ears start to burn and then Niall says, soft and gentle, “It’s this silver one, here,” picks it out of his hand and gives it to the cashier.

“They’ve got like, a billion different silver ones,” Zayn mutters as he holds the door open for Niall.

“I thought about making flash cards,” Niall says, miming shuffling through a deck of cards, and he looks up at Zayn and grins. “You’ll learn, anyway, I’ve got faith.”

Zayn smiles back and feels his cheeks start to flush, looks down at the keys and pretends to fumble with them a bit. “Oh, hey,” he says, and he hands the Guinness to Niall. “It's not a bouquet of roses, but.”

Niall is beaming when he takes it out and he pretends to swoon as he holds the can, like he’d had no idea what it was; he says, “This is better than roses.” He pauses and then he says, “I mean, it’s no _t-shirt_ ,” with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “But better than roses.”

Back at the hotel, Zayn changes into trackies and Niall’s sweatshirt while Niall goes off in search of ice; Niall comes back with the ice and a bag of Skittles. Zayn scrunches his nose and says, “Yuck.” 

Niall scowls and tosses the Skittles at him and says, “You've got terrible taste. Find something good on the telly.”

Zayn is leaning back against the headboard and has the Skittles divided into little piles by color when Niall comes out of the bathroom in basketball shorts and a tanktop that Zayn’s pretty sure is his tanktop. “Freezin’,” he mutters. He stands next to the bed and looks at the Skittles for a while and then he nods at Zayn and says, “’s it alright if I get in here?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Zayn gathers the Skittles and drops them back into the bag and Niall pulls the top blanket off the bed and tosses it onto the chair in the corner before he gets into bed.

“Y’know, once I watched this show,” Niall says as he opens the bottle of schnapps and takes a swig, winces, “where they brought in this blacklight, right. That cover, there? Filthy. And you’ve put the Skittles all over them. Covered in blood, these covers.”

“They’re not covered in _blood_ ,” Zayn says as he takes the bottle, takes a smaller drink than Niall but winces anyway. “Maybe it’s something else.”

“Maybe it’s something _worse_ ,” Niall says, matter-of-factly. He doesn’t say what’s worse but Zayn’s mind is already wandering to dark and dangerous places; he makes a mental note to buy Niall a new bag of Skittles next time they stop for gas.

Zayn finds some black and white comedy reruns on the telly and they pass the schnapps back and forth. Niall laughs along with the laugh track even when the jokes aren’t funny, but Zayn laughs too because he can’t help it. The credits roll when the bottle’s half empty and Zayn’s stomach is fluttering, fingers and toes buzzing.

Niall opens the Guinness during a commercial break and then an episode of Friends comes on. Zayn’s exhausted but they pass the Guinness back and forth anyway and Ross tries to get everyone to get dressed up for some benefit or something. It’s too hard to keep track because they’re talking too fast and Zayn thinks maybe he’s had a bit too much to drink already because Phoebe tells Ross he’s her lucky penny and Zayn starts laughing and can’t stop.

And Niall starts laughing too, a beat later when Zayn rests his forehead on Niall’s shoulder, and then he says, “Pennies are the little copper-colored ones, y’know?”

Zayn lifts his head and he’s laughing still but he grabs Niall’s elbow and leans in and kisses him. His front teeth click hard against Niall’s and he catches his bottom lip between their teeth but Niall cups his chin and straightens him out, kisses back properly. Niall tastes like peppermint, too strong and ice cold, and Zayn shivers and pulls back a little, looks at Niall. Zayn thinks maybe he sees two of Niall but then he blinks and Niall comes into focus, and Zayn swallows hard and says, quiet, “I think maybe…”

Niall doesn’t say anything but he puts the can on the nightstand and switches the light off. He lays down facing Zayn and the light from the telly flickers over the contours of his face like Technicolor lightning. Zayn thinks of the lights of New York City and kisses him again, slowly this time, careful; Niall sighs quietly against his mouth and curls his hand in the fabric of Zayn’s sweatshirt, knuckles pressing soft over his heart, and Zayn imagines his heart pounding hard enough for it to resonate between them both. They fall asleep kissing, lazy and drunk, and when Zayn wakes up Niall’s hand is wrapped loose around his wrist and their feet are tangled together under the bedsheets and birds are chirping right outside the window. Niall is still asleep and he’s scrunching his nose a little, breathing slow and shallow, and Zayn watches him for ages before he starts to feel a little creepy.

He sits up a little and he’s found a few choices for breakfast on his phone when Niall wakes up. “Morning,” Zayn says softly, and Niall pulls the blankets up to his chin and yawns big, smiles up at Zayn like an idiot.

“Morning, sunshine,” Niall says cheerily and he sounds like someone who’d summonsed the birds outside, like maybe if they opened the door a whole flock of cartoon birds would fly in and help Niall get dressed.

He sits up then and rests his chin on Zayn’s shoulder, leans close to look at his phone. “What if I’m looking at porn, like,” Zayn says, but he turns the screen so Niall can see.

“That’d be fuckin’ gross, like, have some class,” Niall says, squinting at the screen, and then he lights up. “Waffle House!”

“Can’t stop thinking about it since you mentioned waffles last night.” Zayn glances over and Niall is biting his thumbnail, studying the menu. “What d’you think?”

“I always think waffles are a great idea, have we met?” Niall looks up at Zayn and watches him for what feels like hours, and then he kisses Zayn’s shoulder and looks back at the menu, and then he says, soft and careful, “You’ve gotta stop kissing me when we’re drunk.” He takes Zayn’s phone and pushes at the screen to zoom in on the menu, and Zayn’s vision goes a little blurry and his cheeks flush hot.

Niall doesn’t say anything else, though, and Zayn thinks maybe he should just laugh it off or something; instead he clears his throat and says, “Sorry, I thought, it wasn’t really…” and his voice cracks and he clears his throat again but he’s not quite sure what else to say.

“This review says,” Niall starts, but then he leans back a little, looks up at Zayn and frowns. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Zayn says, as Niall’s eyes go soft and he shakes his head.

“No,” Niall says, and he puts his hand over his eyes and groans. “Alright, rewind.” He looks at Zayn again and there’s an impossibly long pause where nobody says anything and Zayn’s taken a breath in but he’s forgotten how to exhale.

“Niall,” he says finally, “you don’t have to,” but Niall grabs the front of his shirt and kisses him before he can finish; it’s sleepy and hazy like sunshine, and Zayn kisses back once he’s over the surprise of it all.

Niall leans back but he doesn’t let go of Zayn’s shirt and his eyes are bright, electric; he smiles big and says, “Less drunk kissing, more of that kissing. Anyway. That's what I meant. Now, breakfast.”

Once Zayn’s gotten dressed, Niall’s looked up directions to Waffle House and he says, “This review says the music’s too loud and the service sucks. One star.”

“I’d say that’s probably part of the experience, yeah?” Zayn says as he puts his shoes on. “Besides. Waffles, Niall, I’m completely committed to waffles now.”

“Did I say that turns me off from waffles? No.” Niall stands in front of Zayn while he ties his shoes, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and whispering, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” until Zayn reaches out and pushes his hand against Niall’s belly. “Ooh, stop,” Niall says, and he grins like an idiot and bats his eyelashes.

“You’re so stupid,” Zayn says as he stands up, and Niall grabs his wrists and kisses him again, harder this time. “So we’re just doing this now, yeah?” Zayn whispers.

“What, kissing?” Niall whispers back like it’s no big deal. “Yeah, suppose so.” He clears his throat and takes a step back, shrugs. “I quite like it. Especially with you.”

Zayn can’t help but smile at that and Niall smiles back immediately, instantly brighter than the sun.

They drive to Waffle House with the windows down. They’re seated in a booth next to the window and their waiter smiles a lot; the music isn’t too loud but Niall still pretends he can’t hear anything Zayn says. “What?” he mouths, every time Zayn says anything to him, “I can’t hear you, what?” He shakes his head and gestures to his ears, says, “This music, this _music_.” Zayn would be irritated with just about anyone else but with Niall it’s obnoxiously endearing, absolutely fucking charming.

They head straight to Hersheypark after breakfast and Niall pulls Zayn close for a selfie in front of the entrance. Zayn puts an arm around Niall’s shoulders and smiles as Niall holds up his phone and focuses the shot; it’s a little crooked but Niall gets the sign in the background and smiles big so Zayn figures it’s just all a part of his aesthetic.

“Reminds me a bit of Norway, like,” Zayn says, and he steps back a little but Niall hooks a finger in the front pocket of Zayn’s jeans, keeps him from straying too far; Zayn bites his lip and smiles at Niall and Niall puts his sunglasses on and smiles back like he’s full of secrets; Zayn wonders for a second if he is.

“Maybe we’ll find some pretzels,” Niall says in a weird accent that Zayn figures is Norwegian, he’s not quite sure.

“Germany,” Zayn says. “I think pretzels are German.”

“German!” Niall says and then, without missing a beat, his accent is German. “Course they are, can’t fool you, can I.”

There’s a machine just inside the front gate to flatten pennies, and Niall digs through his pockets and pulls out a handful of coins. “Ah, shit,” he says softly, pushes his sunglasses up on his head, and for a while he pushes through the coins and pretends he can’t figure out which one is a penny. Zayn rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, watches him until Niall glances up through his eyelashes and grins. “I’m joking!” he announces, holds up a shiny penny and drops it into the machine with a couple of quarters.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zayn waves a hand, shakes his head; he’s blushing, he can feel it, but there’s a warmth blooming in his chest and Niall grins like he can feel it, too. Zayn watches as Niall turns the crank until his penny drops down to the tray. He takes it out and presses it into Zayn’s hand, the design side down. The metal is warm against his palm and Zayn looks down at it, flips it over. “It’s a Hershey’s _kiss_ , get it?” Niall leans in and kisses Zayn quick on the cheek and Zayn smiles and tucks the penny in his pocket.

There’s a whole group of candy bars walking around inside; Niall takes Zayn’s picture with a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and Zayn takes Niall’s picture with a Hershey’s Bar, and then they round a corner and Niall just about runs right into a Hershey’s Kiss. “Oh,” he says, and Zayn asks a custodian to take a picture of them both. Zayn glances over at Niall just as Niall makes a peace sign and duck lips, and Zayn laughs without meaning to at the exact minute the custodian takes their photo. When he gets his phone back the picture is a little crooked but he immediately uploads it to Facebook with the kissing lips and heart emojis. Niall takes out his phone and smiles at the screen as he taps something out, and Zayn’s phone goes off with an alert from Niall that says _back atcha_ with a whole string of kissy faces. It goes off again a second later with a comment from Louis that just says _Oh my god you're alive !!_ and Niall laughs out loud and grabs Zayn’s hand, and they walk.

The carousel is their first stop. Niall chooses a big brown horse and Zayn’s is shiny and white; Niall hooks his arm around the pole while circus music plays and holds up his phone, says, “Say cheese!” but Zayn holds a hand in front of his face. “Zayn!”

“Don’t make this a photoshoot, c’mon,” Zayn says, “get us both in the pictures.” So Niall leans in and holds his phone up, and Zayn sticks his tongue out and scrunches up his nose. Niall laughs and says, “You fucker,” but he doesn’t make Zayn do another one so all around it’s a win. Niall holds onto the pole with one hand and gestures along with the music with the other, and when the ride’s nearly over he leans forward on his horse, like he’ll become more aerodynamic that way; when they slow to a stop he raises both hands over his head triumphantly, and Zayn grins and says, “You won, you beat me.”

“I’ll buy you a treat,” Niall says as he slides down off his horse. “Some popcorn or something. A consolation prize.” He grabs Zayn’s shoulder and squeezes gently, and when he lets go their hands just sort of find each other, fingers linking together like they’ve always been this way.

They wander around for a while until Niall spots a pretzel shop. Zayn’s got his heart set on a pretzel until Niall says, “Ohhh, churros.” They each order one and Niall adds on some pretzel bites and a cherry icee, and they find an empty bench in the shade underneath one of the biggest roller coasters Zayn’s ever seen. It’s warm out, hot and humid, and Zayn takes too big of a drink of the icee and suddenly there are daggers of ice shooting through his temples and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck, shit, fuck,” he whispers, and he sucks in a deep breath but it doesn’t help.

“Brain freeze,” Niall says calmly, and suddenly his fingertips are rubbing circles into Zayn’s jaw with just a bit of pressure. It doesn’t help the cold, not really, but Zayn breathes deep and careful and his brain slowly starts to unthaw; Niall’s hands are rough and sort of clumsy, but he smells like warm bread and cinnamon and it calms Zayn immediately. “Better?” Niall says, curls his hand loosely around the side of Zayn’s neck, and Zayn nods.

“Volatile,” he says once he feels more normal.

“You’re a bit too eager, there,” Niall says, shrugging. He takes a huge drink and Zayn winces but Niall doesn’t even react, just takes another bite of his churro.

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Niall knocks his knee against Zayn’s knee and says, “Wanna try this one?” He waggles his eyebrows and nods up at the roller coaster up above them; Zayn looks up and he feels way too full of churro and icee to risk it.

“No way,” he shakes his head, “you’re insane.” He watches as a car loops around a corner going about a thousand miles an hour, and he closes his eyes. “What’s this one?”

Niall rustles the map for a while and then he says in a deep American accent, “The Coal Cracker.” He laughs a little. “Sounds risky, yeah?”

Instead they ride the tame rides, the ferris wheel and an old steam engine; there’s a tower called the Kissing Tower with windows shaped like Hershey’s Kisses, and they go up a million feet in the air and can see for miles all the way around. Zayn feels a bit more daring after being so high up in the air so he agrees to ride the tea cups, and then immediately afterwards he wants to curl up in a ball on the ground, he’s so dizzy.

Niall spots some classic cars and drives Zayn around the track with one hand on the steering wheel and the other stretched out behind Zayn along the seat back. “You’re a proper chauffeur,” Zayn says, beaming.

“I’d give you my letterman jacket, y’know?” Niall grins. “If this was the fifties or something.”

“This whole part of the trip is the fifties,” Zayn says. “The diner, before. Here. We’ve traveled back in time.”

“Right? I know.” Niall’s quiet for a minute, thinking, and then he says, “I’d be the football player, you’re my boyfriend. We’d go to like, sock hops. Whatever they did in the fifties.” He says it smoothly, like nothing, like _boyfriend_ ; Zayn’s stomach flutters a little but he lets it pass, lets it go. They round a corner and Niall takes his hand off the wheel to put his sunglasses on. The car goes a little jerky but keeps moving forward, and Zayn laughs. Niall says, “Look, ma, no hands,” and he grabs Zayn’s face and kisses him in the shadows of the trees as they round a corner; sunlight catches Niall’s hair through the leaves and Zayn feels like he’s dreaming.

“I’m your boyfriend?” Zayn says, though he doesn’t mean to say that and he’s really not sure why he did. “Um.”

Niall stays quiet for a long time and Zayn wonders if he’d caught it, too. “Well,” Niall starts, but he doesn’t say anything else; the car bumps the track as they go around a corner and jerks them around a bit.

“Put your hands back on the wheel,” Zayn says softly. “You’re a daredevil, it’s dangerous.” He curls his hands into fists on his knees and feels like an absolute idiot for saying anything.

Niall sighs and grabs the wheel with one hand, cups the back of Zayn’s head with the other. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” he says, but he’s smiling a little. He doesn’t call Zayn his boyfriend again and Zayn doesn’t bring it up again and things seem to go just fine for the rest of the afternoon. They duck into a building to get out of the heat for a bit and wind up in the back row of a classic rock show by Patty and the Peppermints. Niall sits back in his seat with his hand on Zayn’s thigh, tapping out the rhythm of all the songs along with the drummer. 

After the lights come back up Zayn feels tired, mind lagging, and Niall takes his hand as they head back to the car. They stop off at the gift shop on the way out and Zayn buys Niall a package of pencils that smell like candy bars and a giant Peppermint Patty. Niall wanders off while he’s paying and comes back with a chocolate air freshener for the car and a silver Peppermint Patty snapback. “Look at this!” he says, delighted; embroidered across the front in bold blue letters is _GET THE SENSATION_.

They get in the car and Zayn turns the air conditioner up high as they wait for it to cool off enough to be comfortable. Niall hangs the air freshener from the rearview mirror and Zayn closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Smells like melted chocolate,” he says to Niall and Niall laughs. When Zayn opens his eyes Niall’s watching him, and his eyes are bright and shining and Zayn feels overwhelmed, devastated by the simplicity of it all. He reaches up and tucks two fingers up under Niall’s chin and kisses him. Niall kisses back and it’s all just so much easier, Zayn thinks, it’s all so much easier this way. 

Niall pulls up directions to a Taco Bell and when Zayn pulls in it turns out to be a KFC, too, and he feels sick at the drive-thru speaker when he relays Niall’s absolutely insane mix of food. It’s all tacos and fried chicken and burritos and mashed potatoes and Zayn can’t put the flavors together in his head. The voice on the other end of the speaker asks if they’d like to add some turnovers and Zayn’s head is spinning. He says, “Sure, yeah, alright,” and Niall laughs loud.

Back at the hotel, they sit on the floor with the food and a deck of cards; Zayn pours the rest of the schnapps into a cheap plastic cup and they pass it back and forth and before he knows it the tacos are gone and Niall is kicking his ass at a particularly intense game of War. Zayn groans and tosses his cards onto the floor and Niall gets all indignant and says, “The fuck’s wrong with you?!”

“I don’t even _understand_ this game,” Zayn says; he pouts a bit, for good measure. “I don’t even know if you’re winning legitimately, like.”

“Are you calling me a cheat?” Niall shakes his head slowly, eyes wide. “Unbelievable. Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

Zayn leans his shoulder against the tv stand, rests his head on the corner of the tv. “D’you feel drunk yet?”

“Not even a bit,” Niall says as he gathers up the cards. “You?”

“Mmhmm.” Zayn reaches for some of the cards and fumbles them, huffs out a giggle.

“Oh my god,” Niall mutters, but he’s smiling as he takes the cards from Zayn. “What a mess.”

“What a mess,” Zayn echoes in an admittedly horrible imitation of Niall; he licks his lips and Niall grins at him and stands up, holds out both hands.

“Get up, you’re a nightmare.” Zayn takes his hands and lets Niall pull him up and the room is a little wavy at the edges.

“No, c’mon,” Zayn says, “I’m hardly a nightmare.” He doesn’t let go of Niall’s hands and swings them a little; he feels sleepy, secure, and Niall squeezes his hands.

“Go brush your teeth.” Niall’s voice has gone softer, gentle; he puts his hand on Zayn’s elbow and Zayn holds his breath, waits. “Go on! I’m knackered, you’re keeping me from sleep.”

“Don’t take the good side of the bed,” Zayn says as he drops Niall’s hands and heads to the bathroom.

“Which side’s the good side?” Niall asks after him. Zayn looks back over his shoulder and Niall’s frowning at the bed as he closes the bathroom door.

When he comes back out Niall’s pulled the cover off the bed again and he’s stripped down to just his boxers. Zayn’s still in his clothes so he strips down too but he leaves his socks on. Niall looks up at him and says, “I think I like the right side.”

“You had the left side last night,” Zayn says as he pulls back the covers and crawls in, pulls the blankets up to his chin. It’s freezing again; Niall’s turned the air conditioner up.

Niall gets in bed and he fidgets around for a while but then Zayn stretches his legs and their feet brush together and Niall suddenly groans. “Take off your socks, you fuckin’ animal!” Zayn laughs hard enough to make the bed shake but Niall is truly affronted. “They’ve been in your shoes all day!”

“I don’t have dirty feet, they’re _cold_!” Zayn protests, but he reaches under the covers and takes them off anyway, drops them onto the floor. “You’re so—” He means to say _insane, infuriating, perfect_ , but then Niall grabs his hip and pulls him close, his thumb pressed hard against Zayn’s skin. Zayn sucks in a breath and wonders fleetingly if it’ll bruise, this thumbprint on his hip; a part of him hopes it does, a little secret claim Niall’s laid to his skin that nobody else in the world will ever see.

Niall kisses him first this time, as soon as Zayn turns out the light; he curls his hand around the side of Zayn’s neck and kisses slowly, lazily, like they’ve got all the time in the world. Zayn loses track of time almost immediately and Niall scratches softly at the nape of his neck. “Alright?” he whispers at one point, minutes later or maybe hours later. Zayn has no idea but he nods anyway, leans back in to where Niall’s leaned back, kisses him a little off-center and feels Niall grinning. “Easy there,” Niall whispers right against his lips, cups Zayn’s chin and kisses him again.

And then Niall pulls back again and yawns huge, says, “Sorry, sorry.”

Zayn smiles and kisses his chin. “Sleep, yeah?” he whispers.

Niall cups Zayn’s elbow and pulls him close, hooks his foot around Zayn’s ankle. “Mmhmm, yes,” he says. “Not enough caffeine, I guess, sorry. I’m sorry.” He feels warm and sleepy, solid.

“We’ll get coffee in the morning,” Zayn says softly. He already feels like he’s drifting away and Niall buries his face in Zayn’s neck and hums happily.

“Donuts, yesss,” Niall whispers faintly, smiling against Zayn’s skin.

Zayn falls asleep happy.

The alarm goes off at half seven the next morning and Zayn feels like he’s dragging the whole time they’re getting ready to go. Niall, bless him, seems like he’s had hours and hours of sleep and is going on and on about Washington while he tosses clothes into his suitcase. He’s put on a playlist he calls _WAKE UP YA FUCKER_ and it’s just track after track of music Zayn barely listens to when he’s awake, nevermind while he’s had a few hours of sleep and is nursing a bit of a hangover.

But he sits on the edge of the bed while Niall finishes up in the bathroom, watches him through the open door while Niall dances around to Ariana Grande while he messes with his hair. He plays his toothbrush like a trumpet when a Jason Derulo song starts and when he finally comes back out he hits pause and says, “Is it weird that your eyes remind me of a Coldplay song?”

“What song’s that, d’you think?” Zayn stands up and picks up his bag and waits while Niall packs away his wash bag. “D’you suppose it’s Yellow?”

“I dunno!” Niall says. “I’ve wondered, it’s got to be, right?”

“I’d be worried about having yellow eyes,” Zayn says. “Isn’t that a sign of, like. I’d be jaundiced, yeah?”

Niall scrunches up his nose. “Maybe,” he says, and he grins at Zayn. “Can’t just accept a compliment, can you?”

Zayn smiles back and his insides feel like jelly; Niall’s smile reaches his eyes, every time, and it makes Zayn feel quite literally weak in the knees. “It’s quite nice,” he says. “Even though you’d be ignoring a sign of potential liver failure.”

“That’s what love _is_ ,” Niall says. “Seeing the beauty within.”

They go back and forth about it through check-out and the whole drive to Dunkin Donuts; eventually Niall admits that yes, okay, maybe Jason Derulo isn’t the king of romantic ballads but it’s a nice sentiment, anyway. “Maybe it’s a Coldplay b-side we’ve not heard,” he says as he holds the door open for Zayn. “Maybe it’s not even Yellow at all.”

Niall gets a coffee with cream and double sugar and Zayn can’t decide between coffee or latte; Niall leans his hip against the counter and says, “Just get both!” like Zayn really _wants_ both. He ends up ordering a coffee, black, and he tucks a couple of sugar packets into his back pocket. Niall orders a dozen donuts too, assorted, and they taste half of them in the parking lot before they even start the car.

“What’re you gonna do?” Niall asks while they’re splitting a jelly-filled donut, his fingers covered in sugar.

Zayn has no idea what he’s talking about. “About this donut?” he asks, frowning.

Niall rolls his eyes. “When we get back,” he says, like that had been completely obvious and Zayn’s a complete idiot.

“Oh.” Zayn frowns at his half of the donut for a while and starts the car, turns the air conditioner on. “Dunno,” he finally says. He’s not really thought about it much lately, honestly, his mind focused on road maps and tourist attractions and where the closest rest stop is on the highway. “I mean, all my stuff’s at my mum and dad’s, I don’t even.”

Niall clears his throat and plugs his phone in, scrolls through his music and puts on something Zayn doesn’t recognize. “That was stupid,” he says, matter-of-fact. “I shouldn’t’ve…sorry.”

Zayn finishes his donut and shakes his head. “Wasn’t stupid,” he says as he backs out of the spot. “Gotta think about it eventually, y’know?”

Niall doesn’t say anything else until they’ve gotten on the highway, headed towards Washington DC. He’s looking out the window and then he says, “If you could do anything, what would you do?”

Zayn thinks for a minute, because that could mean anything, really, and he says, “Like, for a career?”

“Yep,” Niall says. He looks over. “The world’s your oyster, all that. Anything.” Zayn doesn’t say anything right away and Niall says, “Don’t think about it.”

“I dunno, I’d like to do those chalk drawings,” Zayn says, and he immediately feels stupid; Niall sits up straighter in his seat. “I dunno. That’s stupid, like. That’s dumb. That’s not a career.”

“Like the ones in London? The one we saw, yeah? That’s not stupid. Zayn.” Niall had come to visit Zayn at school for a weekend a couple years ago, and they’d taken the tube to see Edgar Mueller working on a piece on the sidewalk in Portobello Square. They’d caught the very end of his work and Zayn remembers standing at the edge of the piece for ages, lost in wonder at the enormity of the project. 

“I feel like we’ll fall in,” he’d said softly as the sun was going down.

Niall had stood close by, frowning down at the sidewalk, and he’d said, “This is bigger than anything,” and then, “How d’you know we won’t fall in?”

Zayn hadn’t said anything then; he still thinks about that day, sometimes. How _would_ he have known they wouldn’t have fallen in? After all this time, now it feels as if they have.

“Yeah,” he says now. “It’s stupid, people don’t do that.”

“He does that, you could do that,” Niall says. He sounds eager and excited and it makes Zayn so nervous. “Zayn.”

“What about you?” Zayn says, a little too loudly. “If you could be anything?”

Niall doesn’t answer and Zayn glances over at him, Niall looks away and out his window. They ride in silence for a while and then Niall says, “Bressie’s offered me a job.”

“No,” Zayn says. “A job, at the studio??”

Niall nods but he’s still looking out the window. “Yeah, like. A sound tech position, somethin’ like that. He says he’ll show me the ropes, teach me all the stuff I need to know. Thinks I’ve got an ear for it.” 

“Niiiall,” Zayn says softly. “That’s brilliant, imagine it.”

“I know,” Niall says. He looks at Zayn and smiles but it’s not reaching his eyes and Zayn feels like everything is suddenly so fragile.

They pass a sign for the next exit and Niall says, “Hey, stop off here, I’ve got to piss.” The gas gauge is low anyway so Zayn pulls off the highway and into the first petrol station. Niall is out of the car before he even takes the keys out, sprinting across the parking lot, and Zayn leans against the back of the car while he fills the tank.

Niall’s not back by the time the pump clicks off so Zayn washes the back window and then the front window; Niall’s still inside. He’s thinking about going in to check on him when Niall comes back out with a big grin. “Bought ya something!” he says when he gets back to the car, and he holds up his hand and there’s a plastic keychain dangling from his index finger. _I left my heart in Baltimore_ , it says in swirly gold writing; there’s a shiny penny sealed in resin in the middle. “It’s a lucky penny!” Niall says, and Zayn may be wrong but it sounds like he’s swallowing laughter. “You’ll never forget now, you’ll always know which one’s the penny!”

“Mileage is running out on your joke,” Zayn says, but he’s smiling and he clips the keychain onto his keys.

“Nah,” Niall replies as he gets into the front seat, buckles his seatbelt. “Don’t think so.”

Niall falls asleep just after they’ve gotten back on the highway, John Mayer singing lazy melodies over the speakers. Zayn turns it up just a bit and drives with one hand out the window, and after a while the guitars mix in with the sound of the wind and he loses track of time until Washington DC shows up on the horizon. He turns the radio down and pushes Niall’s knee with his knuckles because he’s sure Niall won’t want to miss this; Niall sighs and shifts a little and says, “Hmm?” but then he opens his eyes and says, “We’re nearly there?”

“Nearly,” Zayn says softly. Traffic starts to pick up and he turns the radio down, taps the brakes. “Didn’t want you to miss anything.”

There’s not much to see as Zayn maneuvers the streets to their hotel. Niall leans forward and looks out the windshield but they’re a bit far out to see anything just yet. There are brick buildings lining the streets and Zayn feels like he’s back home in London; their hotel is down a one-way street lined with cars and big leafy trees and it’s all quite magical, really. He drives slow until he sees the building, a deep red house with turrets like a castle. “Oh, hey,” Niall says, smiling, and Zayn parks in an empty spot across the street.

The bed and breakfast is fancier than the other places they’ve stayed - more expensive, too – but Niall pushes Zayn’s elbow when he reaches for his wallet. “Cut it out,” he says as he hands over his credit card.

“It’s too expensive,” Zayn tells him once they’re at the door to their room. He leans against the wall while Niall unlocks the door.

“Shut up,” Niall says. “This is a once in a lifetime experience, get in.” He holds the door open and Zayn walks inside, drops his bags by the door. The room is bright with sunlight, small and old-fashioned; there’s a fireplace next to the window with a potted fern in where the fire would be and a pedestal sink in the bathroom. Niall stands next to the foot of the bed and looks around, speechless.

There’s a bottle of wine on the night table with two glasses and a small plate of strawberries dipped in chocolate; Zayn walks over and picks up the wine and says, “Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to get food somewhere, but.” He holds up the bottle and raises an eyebrow, and Niall grins at him.

“Crack that bottle open, then,” he says.

“It’s barely one o’clock, we’ve become awful people,” Zayn says but he opens the bottle anyway, pours two glasses.

Niall sits on the end of the bed and takes his shoes off, says, “You only live once, Zayn.” He’s quiet for a minute, and then he looks up at Zayn and grins.

“I fully expected a YOLO joke, who are you,” Zayn says as he hands Niall his glass and sits down beside him. He takes a sip and looks over at Niall; Niall takes a drink too and looks up so Zayn leans over and kisses him. Niall kisses back eagerly as if he’s been waiting for days for this; he tastes of bramble bushes and sunshine, spiced and sweet, and Zayn drinks it in and immediately feels drunk. 

They finish their glasses of wine and then they finish the bottle of wine and the room is spinning. Zayn’s brought the strawberries over and he lays down on his back as Niall takes a bite of a strawberry; Niall looks back at him and licks his lips and Zayn feels like he’s drowning. He shakes his head to clear his vision but then all he can see is Niall, and he pinches the bridge of his nose and laughs helplessly. “Oh my god,” he says, “oh my god.”

Niall laughs like he knows full well what’s going on and Zayn bites his lip and watches him, holds his breath. Niall watches him back and Zayn reaches over, brushes two fingers up and over the curve of his wrist where he’s leaning back on the bed. Niall blinks slowly and says, “Zayn,” but before Zayn can say anything back Niall’s leaning down to kiss him again, hungrier, more desperate.

“I don’t want to go out,” Niall whispers against Zayn’s jaw. It’s been minutes or hours or days, Zayn has no idea, he’s lost all concept of time since they’ve arrived here. The sunlight has gone golden in the time they’ve been in the room, punch-drunk on wine and strawberries and too many feelings, and Zayn feels overwhelmed by everything all of a sudden and grabs Niall, hugs him tight. Niall sighs against his neck and hugs him back around the waist, whispers, “You’re gonna ruin my life,” and Zayn presses his nose to Niall’s hair and whispers back, “Maybe you should let me, like.”

They stay like that for a long time, still and tucked together on the bed; Zayn passes the time by counting the inhale and exhale of Niall’s breathing, the pulse he’s sure he can feel behind Niall’s ear. The sun starts to go down and then Niall sighs again and kisses the curve of Zayn’s neck where it meets his shoulder. He leans back and looks up at Zayn for a long time and there are creases between his eyebrows. Zayn reaches up and presses his thumb over them and Niall says, softly, “Zayn.”

Zayn’s never thought his name sounded much like music before, but when Niall says it this way it sounds like a fucking symphony.

“You’re so much,” Zayn whispers, and he kisses Niall’s forehead and he doesn’t pull back. Niall presses a hand flat to Zayn’s chest and Zayn’s heart is racing, pounding so loud in his ears.

“ _You’re_ so much,” Niall whispers back. He taps each of his fingers against Zayn’s chest. “Fuckin’ romantic, you are.”

“It’s a compliment,” Zayn says, smiles against Niall’s forehead. “You’re an asshole.”

“Oh shit, such a charmer, you’re so charming.” Niall pulls back and his forehead’s all wrinkled but he’s smiling, like he’s trying hard to look angry but he just can’t fully commit. “Everybody thinks you’re a sweetheart, I know the truth. You’re trouble.”

“Oh, I’m trouble,” Zayn says, but there’s a swell of fondness in his chest. “ _I’m_ trouble.”

Niall grins and in the setting sunlight he looks golden, royal. “Mmhmm,” he murmurs as Zayn kisses his chin. He runs his hand up and down Zayn’s arm, tapping out a rhythm on his shoulder; Zayn kisses the spot beneath Niall’s ear and whispers, “Maybe we should, like.”

“If you stop I will kill you,” Niall whispers back, and Zayn laughs and presses his forehead to Niall’s shoulder. Niall’s laughing too and he sits up, pulls his shirt off and tosses it over Zayn’s head. “Take your fuckin’ shirt off, c’mon!” He sounds confident but he’s biting his lip, worrying at it with his front teeth.

Zayn sits up and looks at Niall for a long time, watches the way the sun catches the curve of his shoulder and the blond in his hair, casts shadows across his ribs, the gentle angle of his hipbone barely visible at the waist of his jeans. He’s beautiful like this, insecure and real; he’s so fucking beautiful, and Zayn forgets how to breathe for a few endless moments. “Stop,” Niall says softly, and he flushes pink in his cheeks and down his neck as he waves a hand at Zayn, hugs his other arm around his stomach. “Take your shirt off!”

Zayn crawls over and cups the back of Niall’s neck and kisses him carefully, intensely, and then he pulls back and kisses the tip of his nose. He’s not sure what to say so he doesn’t say anything, just pulls off his own shirt and sits back on his knees with his hands laced together in his lap.

They sit there for a while as the sun goes deeper and deeper, until the only light is a deep red on the horizon and they’re sitting there in the shadows. Niall chews at his thumbnail for a long time and then, with no warning, he tackles Zayn and pushes him onto his back on the bed. He straddles Zayn’s waist and pins him down, kisses him breathless. “You don’t understand,” he whispers against Zayn’s mouth, a little desperately, “you don’t understand what you do to me.”

And Zayn doesn’t understand, not really; he leans up and kisses him to shut him up and they stay this way for a long time, until they’re both down to boxers and the moon is a sliver in the sky of a dark blue sunset. Zayn gets Niall on his back and kisses a trail across his collarbones, down his chest, across his belly. He kneels on the bed next to Niall and bites his bottom lip, taking it all in; he has no idea what he’s doing but Niall says, “I’ll show you,” and he takes his boxers off and kicks them onto the floor. Niall guides his hands and Zayn jerks him off until Niall is panting and begging for more, eyes closed and whimpering. Stars sparkle overhead when Niall takes over, pushes Zayn down on his back and sucks him off until Zayn sees the stars when he closes his eyes, brighter than anything else. They fall asleep tangled in sheets and each other; when they wake up the next morning breakfast is over and they lay together for a while, silent.

After a long time, Niall sits up against the headboard and Zayn lays down with his head on Niall’s thigh. Niall combs his fingers through Zayn’s hair and Zayn closes his eyes, and then Niall scratches softly at his scalp and it sends a bit of a shiver down his spine. “Are you braiding my hair?” Zayn says, but he doesn’t open his eyes.

“Mmhmm,” Niall says; there’s a smile in his voice. “Don’t worry about it.”

Niall scratches Zayn’s head above his ear and Zayn feels completely and absolutely relaxed. “Why’ve you learned to braid hair, where’d you learn this from?” Zayn opens his eyes then and looks up at Niall; he’s sideways and Zayn can see the bottom of his chin, the little dimple he’s got there; he reaches up and presses his thumb to it and Niall smiles down at him.

“YouTube,” Niall says. “Thought Theo might’ve been a girl, wanted to be prepared. D’you want to look at it?”

Zayn doesn’t want to get up so Niall gets his phone and turns on the camera, holds it up so Zayn can see his handiwork – a small french braid, woven into his hair from his temple back over his ear with what look like expert hands. Zayn is impressed. “Oh,” he says. “This is lovely, look at your handiwork.”

“Years of practice, that’s what this is.” He puts his hand on Zayn’s chest and leans back against the headboard. “We could just do this today, y’know,” he says softly, even though they’ve only got a few days in Washington and even though he’s been waiting ages to be here; he acts like they’ve got all the time in the world and Zayn thinks that maybe they do.

So they stay there in bed all day, naked under the covers, kissing and dozing and watching the sun go from noon to three to six. Niall gets up to piss as the sun is going down and when he comes back he passes the fireplace, stops to pretend to warm his hands on the ferns, and Zayn buries his face in the pillow and laughs. He imagines a world where things are unexpected and brilliant and then Niall smiles like sunshine and Zayn wonders, dazedly, if he’s already there. Niall crawls back into bed; ten minutes later his stomach growls and he tells Zayn he’s craving waffles.

“Again with the waffles,” Zayn says, but he’s reaching for his phone because he’s craving them, too. They sit side-by-side on the bed, both looking at restaurants on their phones until Niall finds a Belgian place that’s pretty close by. “Oh, look,” Niall says in awe, “a waffle stuffed with crabmeat.”

It sounds a bit too exotic for Zayn but the menu looks interesting so they decide to go. “Let’s get dressed up,” Niall says so they put on button down shirts and Zayn finds a tie he’d packed at the last minute, rolled up inside one of his shoes at the bottom of his bag. It’s skinny and dark gray and he tries to tie it four times in the mirror before Niall walks over and does it perfectly on his first try.

“Did ya learn that on YouTube, too?” Zayn asks him, innocent.

Niall rolls his eyes. “Obviously you didn’t,” he says softly, squeezing Zayn’s shoulders, and then he grins and kisses Zayn quick on the lips and walks back over to his bags.

They take a cab to the restaurant and Zayn sits up front with the driver this time. Niall sits in the back and leans forward when the driver asks what brings them to the city. Niall squeezes the back of Zayn’s neck under the headrest and tells the driver they’re here on their honeymoon. The driver asks how they met and Zayn’s head spins while Niall tells a magical story about how they met in primary school and then lost track of each other before they found each other again just before university. “It was love at first sight,” Niall says, “and second sight, really, look at this face.”

When the driver pulls up at the restaurant Zayn’s head is spinning and he finds himself wishing that was their true story. Niall pays the driver and he wishes them a lifetime of happiness; Niall takes Zayn’s arm and says, “Shoulda bought you a diamond in New York.” 

Zayn laughs and says, “Why New York?”

Niall holds the door open for him and waits for him to go in and says, “There’d’ve been something flashy about it, I reckon.” 

They decide to keep the story going during dinner so Zayn gives Niall one of his rings that sort of looks like a wedding band, shiny silver inlaid with small black stones. Niall keeps turning it around his finger while he looks at the menu and he says, “Crabmeat’s not _that_ exotic, just try this with me.” 

Niall points to it on the menu when the waitress comes back, _wafel met krab_ , and he asks her how to pronounce it and repeats it back until he gets the accent right. Zayn is smiling at him without even realizing it and Niall meets his eyes and then looks up at the waitress, beaming. “We’ve just gotten married, you see how he looks at me? Heavenly.”

Her eyes go soft as Zayn blushes and looks down at his menu, and Niall grins and says they’ll need a few more minutes with the menu. “You can’t keep this up,” Zayn whispers as soon as she’s out of earshot; Niall laughs loudly and takes his hand across the table.

“You underestimate me!” he says gleefully. He links his fingers in with Zayn’s and squeezes twice like a heartbeat, lets go. “What d’you think of octopus salad?” Niall says, turning his attention back to the menu and leaving Zayn’s head spinning. “That’s too exotic, probably, for you. _Gegrilde octopus salade_. Let’s go to Belgium next, yeah?”

“We’ve got to get to Florida first,” Zayn says but he’s already thinking of Belgium, of traveling the world with Niall, of sharing flaky pastries and cobblestone streets, of busking on street corners, of setting up easels in the middle of fields and painting Niall’s face surrounded by bright blossoms of wildflowers.

“Florida, then Belgium,” Niall says. “Deal.”

When their waitress brings the waffle out, Niall only has to nudge the plate a little before Zayn caves and tries a bite. It’s too rich and blissful and he never wants to eat anything else ever again. “I can’t decide if I want to eat little bites or shove the whole thing in my mouth,” Niall says.

“Little bites,” Zayn says, “definitely little bites. You’ll pick all the food from now on, like. You pick all the food.” He takes another bite and it tastes the way a painting feels, thick brushstrokes of paint blending flavors smoky and fresh, simple and exotic. 

“All the food??” Niall leans forward in his seat, eyes sparkling. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“Within reason,” Zayn starts, and Niall groans and leans back in his chair.

“Within reason, unbelievable.” Niall shakes his head. “What about our _vows_?”

Zayn squints at him. “Which parts of our vows involved our meals?”

Niall doesn’t miss a beat and says, “In sickness and health, for better or for worse, for good food and bad food. Then you went off-script, said you’d let me pick all the food because I’m great, etcetera, etcetera. You’ve forgotten the vows as well, then.”

Zayn shrugs. “You’ll be asking for a divorce, I suppose,” he says. There’s a little pang in his heart when he says it and it’s weird, really, because isn’t this all just a bit silly?

“Nah, no,” Niall says. “Might come as a surprise, but it’ll take more than that for me to get tired of you.”

“Bit hard to believe,” Zayn says. “I mean. We took vows about food. That’s pretty serious.”

“It was _whimsical_!” Niall says. He smiles then and it’s mischievous, playful. “Honestly. Starting to feel like it was all in my head!”

They wind up sharing the octopus salad and a French wine recommended by their waitress; it’s a deep burgundy color and smells expensive and dangerous, and Zayn’s fingertips are tingling by the time they get their meals. Niall’s ordered a steak while Zayn decided on a pot of mussels; Niall steals a few of the mussels while Zayn steals forkfuls of Niall’s vegetables, and by the time their waitress comes back Zayn feels like he could never eat another thing in his entire life.

But she’s brought over a beautiful chocolate dessert, a dish of mousse with a swirled chocolate sculpture beside it on the plate, and she says, “A little congratulations from the kitchen.” Zayn blushes and Niall beams and says, “Thank you, love, this is lovely, thank you,” and takes Zayn’s hand again across the table. Zayn watches him and when she walks away Niall looks back at him and his smile goes shy; Zayn looks down at the table but Niall doesn’t let go of his hand.

Zayn’s sure he can’t eat another bite but they eat it all anyway. “Oh my god,” Niall whispers, and he scrunches his nose at Zayn. “Let’s have fifty more of those.”

Zayn laughs and shakes his head. “No, no,” he says, but when the waitress comes back to clear their dish, Niall asks for a dessert menu. Zayn keeps laughing and says, “Niall, babe, no,” and Niall smiles so bright Zayn feels like the entire room’s on fire.

“I can’t stop!” Niall says, and he’s turning the ring on his finger again, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

They have a quiet argument over the dessert menu; Niall wants the vanilla waffle and Zayn wants a triple crown of chocolate mousse. “Unbelievable,” Niall says, “you’re the one who’s saying ‘no, no,’ and now you want three chocolates!”

“We’ve had a waffle already, waffles are so much,” Zayn says indignantly.

“This one’s vanilla,” Niall says, pointing to the menu, “it’s like a palate cleanser!”

Zayn giggles and shakes his head, reaches over and swats Niall’s hand from the menu. “That’s not a palate cleanser! Stop.”

“Look,” Niall says, “fine, we’ll just get one of each. Alright? No more fighting.” He closes the menu definitively and Zayn covers his face with both hands, laughing helplessly. Their waitress comes back smiling and Zayn laces his hands together in his lap and tries to collect himself while Niall orders both desserts. Zayn smiles up at the waitress and says dumbly, “Everything’s so good,” and she smiles back at him.

They manage to finish both desserts and two glasses each of a French champagne; the bill is outrageously high but Niall gives the waitress his credit card before Zayn can even reach for his wallet. “This was way too expensive,” Zayn whispers to him when they stand up to leave; his knees feel stiff and the room is a bit foggy at the edges of his vision, and Niall grins like he knows a secret and puts a hand on the small of Zayn’s back.

“Not at all,” Niall says, voice soft and steady. “It was an experience, it was worth every penny.” He pauses and Zayn knows it’s coming when he leans closer and whispers, “Those are the little copper ones, Lincoln’s face on the front?”

Zayn sighs. “I’m stuck with you forever,” he says.

“Till death do us part,” Niall says happily, and they go outside.

Niall doesn’t seem the slightest bit tipsy at all but he says, “Maybe let’s walk around for a bit? Fresh air, all that?”

“Mmhmm,” Zayn says, and they start down the sidewalk. “I’m really not that drunk, like.” He pauses for a minute but Niall’s still got his hand on the small of Zayn’s back, warm and steady, so Zayn just doesn’t say anything else.

They come up to the crosswalk and Zayn hears loud music coming from the yellow building on the corner; a sandwich board on the sidewalk says _karaoke until closing!_ and Niall stops short. “Zayn,” he says, “ _Zayn_.”

And normally, Zayn would never do karaoke. Never in a million years. Not in public, not in an unfamiliar place, probably not even with Liam and Harry and Louis at their flat on a Saturday night. But something about this place makes him feel daring, adventurous, and he says a bit too loudly, “Let’s go in, let’s go in here.”

Niall looks at him with surprise all over his face, eyes wide, and he says again, “Zayn.”

“Is it tradition to get a wedding present for your groom?” Zayn asks. “Like. Maybe I’ve given you, like.”

“Oh my god,” Niall says, and he’s laughing a little. “Have you given me karaoke for our wedding??”

“Yes,” Zayn says, and he starts laughing too. He takes both of Niall’s hands and smiles big, wiggles his eyebrows a little bit.

Niall grins a wicked grin, bites his lip. “This is every dream I’ve ever had, coming true right here. On this sidewalk in Washington DC.” He lunges forward and kisses Zayn hard, enough to make Zayn stumble backwards a couple steps, and Niall laughs and drags him inside.

It’s noisy and dark inside, crowded; a disco ball hangs in the center of the room and everything is sparkling. Niall leads Zayn up to the bar and immediately makes friends with the bartender and a group of people standing around; he’s introduced Zayn as his husband and is laughing and telling stories before Zayn can even catch his breath. Zayn’s nerves start to creep in when someone absolutely kills a Whitney song and the room erupts in whistles and applause; he doesn’t realize he’s squeezing Niall’s hand until Niall squeezes back and says, “Best get your name on that list, then.”

Zayn bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from backing out while he adds his name to the list; there’s a guy playing piano and a guitar on a stand in the corner and Niall’s eyes light up. He leans over the piano and says something to the pianist, who nods and Niall gives him a thumbs up. “Add me to that list, babe,” he says to Zayn.

“Babe,” Zayn says as he writes Niall’s name under his name.

“I like it,” Niall shrugs. He hooks his arm with Zayn’s and says, “You seem like you need to be liquored back up, c’mon.”

“What’re you singing?” Zayn asks as they head back to the bar, but Niall doesn’t say anything. “Niall.”

“Hmm?” Niall looks back at him and then he actually winks, that little fucker, and Zayn’s knees go a bit weak before Niall grins and steps up to the bar. He orders shots and hands two of them to Zayn; they’re glittery and purple and Zayn doesn’t even ask what’s in them before he knocks them back, one right after the other. They’re sweet with a little kick and Zayn shivers and steps close to Niall, hugs him around the waist with one arm. Niall leans back against him; he’s got two shots of his own but he’s in the middle of a story about Ireland and he’s captured the attention of nearly everyone in the immediate vicinity at the bar. Zayn focuses on the sound of Niall’s voice, the cadence; he loses track of what’s being said until Niall puts his hand over Zayn’s on his belly and says, “Hey, you should sing Beyonce.”

Zayn laughs and Niall turns to face him, leans back against the bar. “No,” Zayn says, laughing a little. “No way.”

Niall narrows his eyes. “You need more liquor.” He picks up one of his shots and hands it to Zayn; this one is bright green, shimmering in the lights from the disco ball, and it reminds Zayn of Harry Potter. “Drink up!” Niall says, grinning devilishly.

“You’re a bad influence,” Zayn says, but he drinks it anyway and as soon as he swallows he hears his name over the microphone. “Oh, fuck.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Niall echoes, only he’s grinning big and he sounds positively gleeful. Zayn hates him. “Yes! Go on, then!”

“I don’t even have a song,” Zayn says, and Niall hands him his other shot. “Niall.”

“Drink it!” Niall shouts, and he pushes him away. “Go on!”

He’s nearly decided on Adele on his way to the front of the room but when he gets there he picks Taylor Swift at random from the book on top of the piano. He takes the lyrics up to the microphone just to have something to focus on, but then he sees Niall sit down at a table near the front off to the side so he focuses on Niall instead.

Zayn hears his nerves more than he feels them, at the start; he catches his breath after the first verse and closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them again Niall is leaning forward in his seat, his hands clasped together over his knees, eyes wide and beaming. He smiles big with all his teeth when Zayn meets his eyes and gives him two thumbs up and Zayn feels a surge of courage deep in his belly; from then on he feels the nerves disappear and then the crowd sings along with _and we are never ever ever getting back together_ and Zayn almost starts laughing, he’s having so much fun.

When he finishes, Niall is on his feet immediately and he whistles with his fingers but it quickly gets lost in applause and cheers; Zayn steps back from the microphone and smiles big, says thank you even though nobody can hear it, and he locks eyes with Niall and feels dizzy.

Niall meets him halfway back to the table and tackles him in a hug, says, “Zayn, Zayn, Zayn!” He’s laughing against Zayn’s neck and Zayn hugs back, tight, and Niall says, “I knew you could do it, I _knew_ it!”

Niall convinces him to go up again with him, and Niall picks up the guitar and plays along while Zayn sings Rihanna’s part of Fourfiveseconds and then Niall goes completely over the top as Kanye and Zayn has to step back so he doesn’t drown Niall out with his laughter. They share the microphone on the chorus and the crowd is cheering and whistling; Zayn feels like he could stand up here forever, sharing a microphone with Niall and singing pop songs until they’ve sang every song in the world.

They have to let other people take their turns, though, so Niall jots their names down again at the bottom of the list and then drags Zayn to the bathroom. They lock themselves into an empty stall and Niall pushes Zayn against the door and kisses him breathless, slides his hands up under Zayn’s shirt so they’re warm against his ribs. It’s dark and cramped but Niall’s pressing his fingertips between Zayn’s ribs like they’re the frets of a guitar and this is one of the best nights Zayn’s had in ages.

They drink more shots and later on Zayn sings a song by Pink; he closes his eyes and thinks of Niall when he sings _you called me sugar_ and the crowd goes wild when he hits the fullest notes. Then Niall gets up again and sings Brown-Eyed Girl along with the guitar but he changes the words so he’s singing about a brown-eyed boy, and the crowd cheers and sings along with _sha la la la la la la_. The bartender calls last call just as Zayn finishes Cry Me A River; when he gets back to the table his looks at his phone to see fifty-six text messages.

“I sent a video to the lads!” Niall says delightedly. “Liam is fuckin’ wrecked!”

Zayn thumbs back through the conversation and finds a selfie from Louis where he’s flipping off the camera while Liam pouts in the background; immediately afterwards is a text from Louis that says _you are both dead to me for different reasons_ and one from Liam that says _doesnt he know justin is my go to or what????_ Louis says _EXACTLY like have some common DECENCY_. Harry says _This is just cruel_ and Zayn just sends back a string of sad faces. He hooks an arm around Niall’s shoulder and takes a blurry selfie for good measure, and he’s pouting at the camera while Niall’s smiling with all his teeth and giving two thumbs up but Zayn sends it anyway.

Louis just sends back a gun and two broken hearts but Liam says _oh i miss your faces i forgive you :)_ so Zayn figures he’ll get over it.

Niall reaches for Zayn’s hand and says, “C’mon, then,” and as soon as they get outside Niall pushes him up against the brick wall and kisses him. Zayn presses his hand to Niall’s chest and he can feel Niall’s heart beating against his palm. “Niall,” he breathes into Niall’s mouth, and then he pulls back a little and says again, louder, “Niall.” 

Niall exhales and looks at him and says, “Zayn, babe, let’s just,” and he trails off but he doesn’t really need to finish, not really. Zayn just looks at him and Niall looks back; his lips are red and pouty and he scrunches up his nose and says, quietly, “I can’t stop sayin’ babe, I’m turning into you.”

“Slowly but surely,” Zayn says; he smiles, cautious, and Niall sighs and smiles back.

“It was dumb,” Niall says. “The other day, I should’ve.” He pauses, frowns. “This feels dumb.”

Zayn watches him for a minute and then he says, “If you want to be my boyfriend...”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” Niall says, but Zayn’s already saying, “You don’t have to ask, like.”

“Fuck you,” Niall says, grinning. “Like I’m asking, I’m _telling_ you.”

Zayn laughs. “Oh, it’s like that, then.”

“Like that.” Niall smiles big, watching him. “Just felt a bit stupid, ‘s all.”

“Doesn’t have to be, like, a big _thing_ ,” Zayn says. “Maybe this just is, you know what I mean? Like. Maybe it’s always been your place.” And then Zayn kisses him softly, gentle, presses his thumb to Niall’s chin and says, “Let’s walk.”

They take the metro back to the hotel and Zayn feels pleasantly sluggish; they change into trackies and turn the lights out and Niall’s turned the telly to a channel that’s showing a French movie with no subtitles. Niall laughs at jokes Zayn can’t understand and Zayn rests his head on Niall’s shoulder, his arm loose around Niall’s back, scratching Niall’s side. “I’ve got no idea what’s going on,” he whispers during a commercial.

“You just need to learn French,” Niall whispers back.

Zayn looks up at him and Niall smiles warmly; they kiss for the rest of the commercial break and then keep kissing through the rest of the movie until they both fall asleep; the next morning, Niall googles to find out how it ends.

They head out early to explore the Smithsonian. Niall wants to see the Air and Space Museum and Zayn wants to see some art if they’ve got time. They go to the space museum first and Niall walks into the building with wide eyes and grabs Zayn’s elbow just inside the front doors. “Oh my god, oh my god,” he breathes, “that’s Voyager.”

Zayn takes dozens of pictures but most of them are shots of Niall, taken while he’s not paying attention; he reads all the plaques and touches a piece of moon rock and then they walk into a room with the front end of a Boeing 747 sticking out from the wall and Niall leans against the wall to catch his breath.

“Maybe you should be a pilot,” Zayn says softly, standing in front of Niall with both hands on Niall’s shoulders, trying to steady him; Niall laughs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t you ever feel completely overwhelmed by the universe?” Niall asks, his voice weak; when he opens his eyes again they’re bright and shining and he laughs and grabs Zayn, hugs him tight and buries his face in Zayn’s neck; it’s the most heartbreakingly endearing moment Zayn can ever remember experiencing in his entire life.

“We haven’t even seen much about space,” Zayn says softly, kisses Niall’s temple.

“I know! I can’t handle it,” Niall whispers back, huffing out a laugh against Zayn’s neck. He’s clutching handfuls of Zayn’s shirt in both hands; when Zayn pulls back he takes Niall’s hand and doesn’t let go for the rest of the time they’re at the museum.

The planetarium is showing a movie about stars after lunch and Zayn says, “Hey, this is in fifteen minutes, d’you want to go?” but Niall shakes his head and says, “No, no, let’s go look at some art.”

“We can stay here, like,” Zayn says, “we can see art anytime.”

Niall shakes his head. “No, no, no,” he says. “Let’s go see some art.”

They spend a couple hours wandering from gallery to gallery at the American Art Museum; Niall stops in front of a bright oil painting of San Francisco, studies it for what feels like hours. “Look at this,” he finally says to Zayn. “Feels like we could jump into this painting here, walk up this hill.”

Zayn says, “I love this one, it’s one of my favorites.” He points with two fingers, towards the top of the hill. “Look at those shadows, like. They’re just shapes but he’s made them into shadows.”

When he looks at Niall, Niall’s watching the painting, eyes flitting from the hill to the shadows to the outlines of the trees. “This one’s important,” he says carefully. “To you.”

“When I was twelve my mum took me and my sister to London,” Zayn says. “There was this painting of like, all these toys on a shelf.”

“One of his,” Niall says, and it doesn’t really sound like a question but Zayn nods anyway.

“Doniya was so _bored_ ,” he says, smiling a bit at the memory. “But, like. I dunno.” He squints at the painting. “I remember my mum said, you could do this, you could have a show like this someday.” He shakes his head a little, frowns. “Always stuck with me, I guess.”

“These colors remind me of the way yours feel sometimes.” Niall is quiet for a minute and then he says, “It’s never too late to be what you might have been.”

Zayn takes Niall’s hand and they stand there for a long time, looking through this tiny window to San Francisco, frozen in Technicolor time; Niall squeezes his hand and says, “It’s brilliant. I didn’t know that story, you should write your memoirs.”

“I’ve not done anything yet, I can’t write memoirs,” Zayn says.

“You’ve not done anything!” Niall gestures around. “Look where we are, you could write memoirs about this trip!”

Zayn laughs and they move on; he tells Niall that maybe that’s _his_ calling, maybe he’s meant to be writing stories and filling pages with words. Niall is quiet for a long time and then he says, “Dunno, I think I’ve found my calling. Not really meant to do something epic.” They stop in front of Edward Hopper’s Cape Cod Morning; the colors feel like sunrise and Zayn can almost smell the ocean.

“How d’you know?” Zayn asks him after a minute.

“Just feels that way,” Niall says with a shrug. “I’m happy with my life, I like it.”

“You work too much, what about…” He wants to ask about the job, the studio, but Zayn trails off when Niall shakes his head.

“I mean,” Niall says. “I wouldn’t mind a new flat.”

They don’t say anything more about it after that; Niall passes by Double Portrait of the Artist in Time before doubling back to take a closer look, and then they stop in front of an O’Keeffe on the second floor that actually makes Zayn go weak in the knees and he has to sit down.

Niall stands behind the bench and puts his hands on Zayn’s shoulders and says, “Breathe, breathe,” and he’s got a playfulness in his voice but Zayn focuses on it and takes a couple of deep breaths. Niall whispers, “This is your universe,” and Zayn laughs and touches Niall’s hand on his shoulder, his fingers fitting in the dips between Niall’s knuckles.

“It’s very overwhelming,” Zayn whispers back. “I think I need some air.”

They head back outside and the sun is bright, white-hot overhead; the air is heavy and humid but Zayn takes a deep breath anyway. Finally Niall says, softly, “That was really incredible, really,” and he looks over at Zayn. “Your mum was right, y’know? You could do this. Wise lady, your mum.”

“Don’t give up so easy,” Zayn says, though it feels like it comes out in a tumble of words. “Like.”

Niall is already shaking his head before Zayn can go any further. “It’s not giving up if you’re happy,” he says, “you can be happy without being epic. I’m happy, I like my life.” He smiles at Zayn. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Zayn watches him for a long time, because he’s got nothing to counter with; Niall’s right, overwhelmingly so. “I envy you,” he says finally.

“I believe in you,” Niall says happily. “You should envy _that_!” Zayn feels his cheeks flush and he’s thinks it might be the weather until Niall cups his chin and says, “Don’t give up so easy. Take your own fuckin’ advice for once.”

Zayn makes a face at him and Niall lets go of his chin and slaps Zayn’s cheek, and he says, “Okay! Monuments.”

Zayn shakes his head and says, “Hang on, wait.” He takes out his phone and studies it for a minute before grabbing Niall’s hand and leading him to the metro stop. He’s a bit nervous about getting on the right train and even more nervous that Niall will know where they’re going before they even get there.

If Niall does know, he doesn’t let on that he knows, and they walk a couple of blocks further after they get off the train, past storefronts and restaurants and gray granite office buildings. They round a corner and onto Pennsylvania Avenue and Niall stops dead in his tracks because there, a block away, is the White House. “Oh my god,” Niall says as he grabs Zayn’s shoulder, and he laughs helplessly. “It’s right fuckin’ there!”

Zayn laughs and they walk up as close as they can; there are people everywhere, tourists and police officers and people walking by with places to go, but Zayn feels like he and Niall are the only people on earth. Niall puts his sunglasses on and Zayn takes his picture while Niall stands in front of the gates and makes a heart with his fingers. “Take a selfie with me!” Niall says, waving him over, and Zayn puts his arm around Niall’s neck while he fumbles with his phone. “You fuckin’ amateur,” Niall mutters fondly, and he takes Zayn’s phone and snaps a selfie of them both smiling and then one where he’s kissing Zayn’s cheek. “Now pretend to cry,” Niall says, and Zayn laughs while Niall pretends to cry about the White House and it’s by far the best selfie of the bunch.

Niall stands in front of the fence again and puts his hands high in the air while Zayn takes another picture and Niall posts it to Facebook immediately with the crying emoji and a hundred exclamation points. He snaps a couple more pictures and then he just stands at the fence for a long time. Zayn stands back a bit and just watches him and waits; he takes a picture and sends it to the boys with a heart-eyed emoji and Louis texts back, _dreams really do come true_. Zayn laughs and he sees Niall check his phone, and he laughs too and turns back to Zayn with bright eyes and says, “Louis is a dick.” He takes Zayn’s hand again and looks back over his shoulder before saying, “C’mon, let’s go.”

“What, already?” Zayn says. “I’ve brought the tent, I thought we’d be camping on the lawn tonight.” He’s only half joking; he doesn’t have the tent.

“Don’t tempt me!” Niall says, and he laughs and kisses the back of Zayn’s hand. “This is brilliant. Thank you.”

“I can’t believe this wasn’t our first stop,” Zayn says as they head back to the metro station.

“I figured we’d pass by it,” Niall says. “More important things to see, all that.”

“Good thing you’ve got me with you, then,” Zayn says as Niall passes through the turnstile.

Niall grins and says, “Good thing.”

They spend the rest of the afternoon going from monument to monument, from the Lincoln Memorial to the Martin Luther King Jr Memorial, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial and the Constitution Gardens, the FDR Memorial. They end up back at the Washington Monument at sunset and Niall’s had stars in his eyes all afternoon and this, Zayn thinks, _this_ must be what real happiness looks like. They get a cab back to the bed and breakfast and Niall rests his head on Zayn’s shoulder the whole ride back, eyes closed.

Niall falls asleep almost as soon as they get back to their room, curled up in bed with his clothes on and his arms around Zayn’s waist. Zayn’s too exhausted to fall asleep right off so he scrolls through the pictures on his phone and sends a couple of the selfies to Louis - the one from the White House where Niall’s kissing his cheek and one from the Lincoln Memorial where they’ve both pulled stupid faces and he says, _i think i've been in love with him this whole time and everybody knew but nobody told me_. He falls asleep before Louis replies but he sleeps restlessly; he dreams of Niall swordfighting everyone Zayn’s ever dated, one by one on the wing of an old airplane while Zayn watches helplessly from the ground. He wakes up when it’s Perrie’s turn; she says, over and over, “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,” and then she knocks Niall’s sword from his hand and it falls to the ground with a clatter. Zayn wakes with a start and his heart is racing but Niall is sound asleep, safe, breathing deep against Zayn’s shoulder.

Zayn carefully picks up his phone and there are three rows of heart-eyed faces and then Louis has said, _yeah we figured it out ages ago but you can be a bit obtuse sometimes. i’ve changed your surname to horan in my contacts btw. love you xxx !!_

They check out before breakfast and Niall takes the next shift driving. They listen to a playlist of guitars and sleepy vocals and Zayn falls asleep before they and doesn’t wake up until Niall’s gotten off the highway and he’s maneuvering down long streets lined with houses that all look exactly the same. Niall glances in the rearview mirror at a car that’s following too close; the driver honks and Niall mutters, “Yeah, yeah,” and doesn’t speed up.

“Think you’re going too slow,” Zayn says around a yawn. His neck is stiff so he rolls up his sweatshirt and tucks it under his head like a pillow.

“Ah, fuck,” Niall says softly. “She said left, I’ve gone right. Fuck.”

“It's alright,” Zayn says, and he sits up a little. Niall’s flustered, he can tell, so he puts a hand on Niall’s knee and rubs circles with his thumb. “The streets are numbered, look. You can turn around at the next one.” He points out the street sign, and Niall exhales and puts his signal on, turns.

“Where’d I be without you?” he asks, grinning a little; he’s pushed his sunglasses up like a headband and Zayn smiles back.

“Turn here at this street,” Zayn says as they slow to a stop, but instead Niall pulls into a parking lot where there’s a market set up, rows of tents filled with piles of vegetables and bouquets of flowers.

“A market!” Niall says. He gets out and puts his sunglasses back on as Zayn catches up with him; Niall’s already stopped off at a tent with a sign for make-your-own bouquets of zinnias. He picks out a small bundle of five or six blossoms, bright yellow and pink and purple, and the girl working the booth ties them with twine and hands them to Niall, who hands them right to Zayn. “For you,” he says as he pays for them; he’s still wearing Zayn’s ring.

They spend what feels like hours at the market, poring over fresh cheese and pastries and vegetables. Niall finds a booth selling baked goods and buys a loaf of fresh baked bread, and Zayn buys a big ripe red tomato. They end up back at the car loaded down with bags – a big ball of fresh mozzarella, a bag of mini scones, a jar of raspberry jam. “Brilliant,” Niall says softly. He seems much more relaxed now, and he smiles easily at Zayn. “This was brilliant.” 

The hotel is close to the beach, right next to a raw bar and an oyster house; the room isn’t much but there’s a kitchen and Zayn finds silverware and dishes in the cupboards. Niall makes a show of filling the refrigerator with the tomatoes and cheese and mozzarella and he scrunches his nose up and looks at Zayn. Zayn laughs and pushes Niall’s head and Niall says, “How fuckin’ dare you, I’m just worried we might starve to death,” and Zayn laughs and goes to the bathroom to shower.

When he comes back out, Niall’s taken a trip to the vending machine and there are packages all over the bed. “Niall,” Zayn says as he ties his hair up, “we’ve _just_ been to the market.”

Niall responds by rolling his eyes and grabbing the front of Zayn’s shirt and kissing him, and, well. Zayn can’t really argue, can he?

Zayn slices up the cheese and tomato while Niall takes a shower; they eat half the loaf of bread with those and the rest with the jar of jam. Once they’ve finished eating Niall says, “I’m gonna call me da, I think.”

Zayn nods and says, “Maybe I’ll see if I can get Lou on the phone.”

“No, hey,” Niall says. “Wait ‘til I’m done, don’t call ‘til I’m done.” He grabs the front of Zayn’s shirt and kisses him again, softer this time, and grins. “You taste like summer,” he says, and Zayn smiles and Niall kisses him again.

Zayn bites the end of a Twizzler and flips through the guidebook, half-listening while Niall gives Bobby an update on everywhere they’ve been and what they’ve seen. There are a bunch of notes in the margins for Florida, the pages dog-eared and paragraphs circled and highlighted, and then Bobby must ask about him because Niall’s voice goes soft and he says, “Yeah, he’s alright, we’re having a brilliant time.” He says, “He’s,” and then he doesn’t say anything else for a long time, but then he laughs a little and says, “he’s fuckin’ brilliant, Da, just brilliant,” in a voice Zayn’s never really heard him use before but it makes his heart beat fast and his head spin. 

When he looks up from the book Niall is watching him and they lock eyes for a minute before Niall says to Bobby, he says, “Yeah, we went to dinner the other night, pretended we’d just got married. It was nice.” He grins at Zayn. “I felt lucky.”

Bobby says something to him and Niall smiles big and breaks eye contact, looks down at his hand and says, “Uh-huh, yeah,” and Zayn looks at the book but he can’t read anything that’s in it. When Niall tells Bobby he’ll call again in a couple days, Zayn counts to ten in his head once Niall’s hung up the phone and then he says, “Bobby’s good?” 

Niall says, “Course he is, Bobby Horan’s always good. Great, even.” Zayn’s met Bobby a handful of times, once at Christmas when he’d gone to see Niall in Dublin for a few days, and again in London when Bobby’d come to the city for Niall’s birthday. He’s always been nervous around him, inexplicably; Bobby’s probably the only person in the world who’s easier to talk to than Niall. “Said to tell you he says hi,” Niall says, reaching for a Twizzler. “He likes you.”

“Nah,” Zayn shakes his head, “he barely knows me.”

“He does!” Niall says.

Zayn grins. “He’s probably, like. I bet when you told him you were bringing me he was like, oh, the one with the tattoos and the piercings, no. Bring Harry instead.”

“Oh my fuckin’ god,” Niall says, and he shoves Zayn’s shoulder. “Yep, yep, you’ve got it. You idiot. Harry and I’d never come back, he’d get us lost in the swamplands of Louisiana or somethin’. God. Fuckin’ imagine that.”

Zayn laughs and then he gets Niall laughing when he pokes him in the side, and Niall slaps at his hand and says, “Would you call Lou already, jesus!”

It takes a minute for FaceTime to connect but then all of a sudden Louis’s face is on the screen. Louis lights up and says, “Would you look who it is!”

“Lou!” Niall puts an arm around Zayn’s waist and pulls him closer and then just leaves his hand there, loose on Zayn’s hip while he tilts the phone a bit, and Louis grins when Niall rests his chin on Zayn’s shoulder so they both fit in the shot. “How are ya!”

“Brilliant, mate, bloody brilliant.” Louis looks over his shoulder. “You’ve missed the boys, they’ve run out to the shop.”

“Ah, no.” Niall pushes out his bottom lip. “Text them, tell them to come back immediately.”

“What’ve they gone out for?” Zayn asks. “It’s, what, nearly eleven??”

“Alcohol, obviously,” Louis says. “Honestly, how long have you been gone, have you forgotten what we do most nights of the week?” He smiles and his eyes go a little soft as he gestures to the camera. “Look at you, you’ve become lovebirds.”

Zayn blushes and Niall laughs loud in his ear. “Aye, things have changed a bit,” Niall says.

“A bit,” Louis echoes softly, and he looks over his shoulder again. “Oh! They’re back, come here!” He leans out of the shot and then all of a sudden he’s back with Liam and Harry and a million bottles of alcohol. “Look who called while you were out!”

“Oh!” Harry says, and he smiles big. “It’s you!”

Liam’s smiling big enough where his eyes are all crinkled up and Zayn’s heart aches for them all, he misses them so much. Niall squeezes his knee and Liam sits down close to Louis and says, “You look lovely, where are you?”

“You must miss us terribly,” Harry says, and he sits on Liam’s lap and puts an arm around him, slouches down so only the top of his head’s cut off in the screen.

“Desperately,” Zayn says, and Niall squeezes his hip and says, “Almost time for our nightly cry about it.”

“We miss you quite a lot,” Liam says, so genuine. “Have you had a good time so far, you’ve seen a lot?”

Niall tells them all about the trip so far, about where they’ve been and the things they’ve done. The boys ask all sorts of questions and Zayn lets Niall answer them, listening to the rhythm of his words, the way he laughs a bit when he stumbles over his words. Niall keeps squeezing Zayn’s hip every so often and Zayn feels tremendously lucky, overwhelmingly so.

Finally, Niall presses his forehead to Zayn’s shoulder and groans, says, “We’ve kept you for ages,” and Louis says, “Shut the fuck up, you wanker,” at the same time Harry says, “No, no, it’s fine.” Zayn laughs at the same time Liam does, a million miles away; it hits Zayn that it’s already tomorrow in London and how unfair it is that they’re so far apart.

They say their goodbyes and Zayn and Niall promise to call again soon, maybe at the weekend, and Liam tells them to take video if they do karaoke again. “And when Niall gets a tattoo,” Louis calls out, “take video of that, please!” Niall laughs and goes a bit pink and Zayn says, “Alright, alright, we’ll talk to you soon.”

“Miss you,” Harry says, waving, and Niall blows kisses over and over until someone finally disconnects and the screen goes black. Zayn’s phone and Niall’s phone light up at the same time with a text from Louis that’s just a bunch of emoji – red hearts, blue hearts, shamrocks and mugs of beer, two boys holding hands. Niall writes back _ha ha love you miss you love you !! xxxxxxx_ and then he tosses his phone aside and tackles Zayn back on the bed and kisses him hard.

After a couple minutes, Niall says, “You make me feel like a spaceship.” Zayn frowns and Niall freezes, halfway through a kiss, and then Niall pulls back and claps a hand to his forehead. “Jesus _Christ_.”

Zayn sits up a little and stares at him and he must be making a face because Niall presses his other hand over Zayn’s mouth and says, “Don’t fuckin’ say _anything_. I’m taking that back. Forget I said that.”

“What the fuck does that even mean,” Zayn says against Niall’s hand.

“I said don’t say anything!” Niall covers his eyes with both hands and collapses onto his back on the bed. “Oh my god.”

“I make you feel,” Zayn says slowly, “like a spaceship.”

“I meant epic,” Niall says. He still has his hands over his eyes. “It was a metaphor.”

Zayn is full on smiling now, because this is fantastic. “Niall,” he says, and he covers his mouth with his hand but he laughs anyway, he can’t help it.

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole,” Niall says, but he’s smiling too and he uncovers his eyes and squints at Zayn. “It was gonna be a _beautiful_ metaphor.”

“I’m sure,” Zayn says, nodding. Niall reaches over and shoves his shoulder but Zayn grabs him and hugs him tight and doesn’t let go. “It’s alright, I love you anyway,” Zayn says, and then they both freeze and it’s Zayn’s turn to want to melt into the floor.

Niall pulls back slowly and stares at him while Zayn just stares back, and he feels frozen in time. “Oh my god,” Zayn whispers.

“We are a trainwreck,” Niall whispers back. “What’s happened?”

Zayn starts laughing anxiously and it sounds absolutely mad, in his head; Niall stares at him and smiles a little but Zayn imagines he’s already planning how to get back to London without Zayn and disappear before Zayn can catch up to him.

So Zayn says, nervously, “I mean, I don’t _love_ you,” because _that’s_ the best thing he can think to say. Niall claps a hand over his mouth again but this time Zayn shuts up before he says something else that ruins everything.

“I’ve loved you for ages, you idiot,” Niall says, quietly and evenly. “If you think the idea of love freaks me out—”

“It’s really soon,” Zayn says against Niall’s hand.

“It’s not really soon,” Niall shakes his head. “Cut it out.” He pulls his hand away tentatively and Zayn presses his lips together determinedly to keep all of the words inside his head. He won’t fuck this up. He _won’t_. “If you knew how long…” Niall shakes his head. “Everybody’s told me to tell you that, but I’m not stupid, I’m not gonna.” Niall sighs and shakes his head again. “I’ve loved you for ages, I’ve basically accepted that _that’s_ never going to change,” Niall says. “Okay? You’re stuck with me whether you love me back or not.”

Zayn nods and whispers, “I didn’t mean it when I said I don’t love you.” He clears his throat and says a little louder, “Like. Obviously, I love you. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Niall says, with his stupid Zayn accent.

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Is this a joke to you?” he says, raising an eyebrow. His stomach is fluttering with nerves, complete happy anxiety. “This is a big deal. Like.” He pauses and then he says, “It’s as big as,” and Niall is already shaking his head.

“Don’t say it, do _not_ say it,” Niall says, but Zayn can’t help it.

“Space,” Zayn says, very seriously. He reaches over and pokes Niall in the belly. “It’s as big as _space_.”

“Would you look at that!” Niall says, pushing Zayn’s hand away and laughing. “I’ve stopped loving you, quick as that!”

“What a terrible miracle,” Zayn says.

“Completely terrible,” Niall says, and he smiles at Zayn. “Zayn.”

“We’ve got to eat some of this shit food,” Zayn says.

Niall reaches over and turns the telly on, and he flips through the channels for a while and then he stops for a second to open a bag of M&Ms. On the screen, Ewan McGregor pushes popcorn out of the air at a circus; Niall freezes and says, “Oh, hey. Oh. Hey.”

“I love this movie,” Zayn says, but Niall is off the bed, pulling his laptop out of his bag.

“How far away d’you think we are from Alabama?” Niall asks. Zayn has no idea how far away they are from Alabama but it doesn’t matter, really, because Niall answers his own question with, “Seven hundred and fifty miles.”

“Sorry,” Zayn says, “what? Our next stop is Georgia, you wanted to go to Georgia.”

“Let’s go to Alabama instead.” Niall closes his laptop and gets out his map, unfolds it on the bed. Zayn leans over and looks at it while Niall draws out a route west with his finger, zigzagging across North Carolina and South Carolina, the top bit of Georgia, ending in the middle of Alabama. “Look, it’s close enough to Florida, just a little bit of a detour’s all.”

“What on earth is in Alabama?” Zayn asks, a little louder, because maybe Niall hadn’t heard him before. “I mean?”

“This town,” Niall says excitedly, “the town in this movie, it’s on a little island in Alabama. I’ve seen it online, people go there all the time to see it, it’s not even a real town.”

“But it’s seven hundred and fifty miles from _here_?” Zayn says. “A fake town! Niall.”

“’Every day a new adventure, that's my motto.’” Zayn recognizes the quote from the movie, and Niall looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

“This is crazy,” Zayn says. “Absolutely crazy.”

“What’s crazy, c’mon,” Niall says, and he smiles brightly before snuggling up to Zayn and pulling Zayn’s arm around his shoulders. “It’s an _adventure_.”

They leave the movie on for a while and then Edward tells Sandra he’s spent three years trying to find out who she is, and he says how the trouble’s all been worth it because he’s destined to marry her. “I knew that from the first moment I saw you at the circus,” he says. “And I know it now more than ever.”

Niall is quiet until the commercial break and then he says to Zayn, soft like a breeze, “I’ve loved you since that New Year’s party, the one the boys threw last year.” He pauses for a beat, two beats, and then he asks, “D’you remember that night?”

Zayn remembers that night, clear as anything. He turns the telly off and they lay there in silence for a long time; Zayn stares at the fan until he feels dizzy and has to close his eyes.

Niall had shown up to the party with Bressie, already pleasantly drunk to the point that his cheeks were flushed and his accent was stronger than usual, his words slurring together with a mix of alcohol and laughter. He was telling anyone who’d listen that Bressie was his date and he’d be kissing Bressie at midnight, and Bressie was reminding him that Roz would be stopping by when she got off work but he’d kiss Niall on the cheek once he’d had a chance to kiss her first.

Zayn and Perrie hadn’t had the best day, really; it was another bad day in a string of bad days and Zayn’d have much rather stayed home but he’d promised Liam he’d be there and he’d rather not deal with the fallout if he’d cancelled New Year’s plans with his girlfriend at the last minute.

So they’d gone, Zayn and Perrie, and then Niall had found them at ten til midnight, pouting because Roz had, in fact, shown up so now Bressie was spoken for; Perrie had sympathized with Niall but Zayn could tell it wasn’t completely genuine because she’d been tiring of Niall for quite a long time, it turned out; she’d gone to get a drink when the crowd started to count backwards from ten.

And when everyone yelled Happy New Year and the noisemakers were going off, Niall looked at Zayn and said, “Happy New Year,” so Zayn had kissed him quick on the lips. It was just a brush of contact but a kiss nonetheless, and it was lovely and sweet and when he’d pulled back Perrie was standing just off to Niall’s left with a glass of champagne in her hand.

It meant nothing, he’d tried over and over to convince her, because it was Niall and Niall was there by himself and that was _insane_ , and they’d fought until three in the morning after that and two days later they’d broken up for good.

Now, Zayn is afraid to open his eyes because it hits him that New Year’s was exactly the day where the foundation had started to crack beyond repair. Maybe he’s loved Niall since the start of the year; maybe he really hadn’t known it all along.

“She thought,” Zayn starts, but Niall says, so quietly, “I know what she thought.”

Zayn finally turns the light out and he lies back down on his side facing Niall. Niall stays on his back but he laces his hands together on his belly this time. And they stay like that, silent, not moving; when Zayn wakes up it’s barely sunrise but he’s covered with a blanket, and Niall is asleep facing him, his hand resting loose on Zayn’s hip.

Zayn doesn’t fall back asleep and thinks about last night for a long time; Niall finally stirs a couple hours later before Zayn goes completely mad and he hums softly, tightening his hand in the fabric of Zayn’s t-shirt. “It’s morning,” he whispers, but he doesn’t open his eyes.

“Barely,” Zayn whispers back. He hugs Niall with one arm, pulls him as close as he can, and Niall hugs back with both arms around Zayn’s waist, buries his face in Zayn’s shoulder. “I love you,” Zayn whispers, but this time it feels different when he says it; intentional, with purpose, long-overdue.

Niall goes still for a second and then he hugs him even tighter and whispers back, “I love you too.”

They get dressed in each other’s hoodies and sandals and Zayn takes Niall’s hand as they walk down to the beach. They don’t say anything until they’re at the water, waves lapping on the sand, and then Niall toes his sandals off and steps into the water and says, “Holy fuck,” because the water is freezing. The beach is empty and the sky is gray, the air hazy and overcast; Zayn laughs loud. “Holy fuck, this is fuckin’ _freezing_.” Zayn walks down to the water and lets it wash up over his toes because he feels bad, but Niall is right. It’s fucking freezing. He takes a picture anyway, of his feet in the sand, and posts it to Instagram with _brrrrrr_ for the caption, and tags Niall in it.

“What a disappointment,” Niall says as they trudge back up to the hotel, dejected. “I thought it’d be like a warm bath.”

“Oh,” Zayn says, and he shivers because it’s really not very summery here at all; in the distance, there’s a rumble of thunder. “A warm bath, that’d be lovely.”

They take their time packing up and by the time they check out they end up having to pay a late fee, but Zayn figures it’s worth it. They stop for gas before getting back on the highway and Zayn sits on the boot with Niall’s phone and studies the directions while Niall fills the tank. “You’re sure this is where you want to go?” he says, and Niall watches the numbers on the pump and nods. “It’s a huge detour,” Zayn says. “Like. Almost eight hundred miles.”

“’S alright,” Niall says. He puts the pump back, prints his receipt and shoves it in his pocket. “We’ve got plenty of time. Why not?”

Why not, Zayn thinks, and he shrugs. “Alright, then.” Niall smiles at him and gets back in the car, and Zayn goes in the store and gets two cans of Red Bull and coffee. While he’s in line to pay he sees a rack of sweets and he grabs a bag of Skittles, too. When he gets back in the driver’s seat Niall is scrolling through his phone, Zayn’s sweatshirt tucked between his head and the window; Zayn tosses the Skittles into his lap and Niall says, “Oh! Thanks, babe.” He smiles brightly but his eyes are tired.

Niall starts the directions to Alabama and then puts his music on shuffle and drops his phone upside down into the cupholder. He puts his sunglasses on and says, “Wake me up when we get to the state line, yeah? Slept like shit last night.”

He falls asleep before they’ve gone five miles; Zayn turns the radio up but Niall doesn’t even stir. 

The highway is broad and empty for a long time; Zayn feels his mind drifting more than once and he thinks surely he’s missed the state line almost gotten to the next leg when Niall’s phone says, “Take a slight left onto US-58 West/Southampton Parkway,” and then once he does, she continues, “In 70.8 miles, merge onto I-85 South.”

Zayn groans and says, “You’ve got to be fucking joking,” because how long is Virginia _anyway_ , and Niall shifts in his seat and sighs, stretches his legs out, but he doesn’t wake up.

Finally, she says they’ve got ten miles until they need to merge and then Zayn sees signs for I-85 South and as he’s merging, Niall wakes up.

“We at the state line?” Niall says, yawning, and he pushes his sunglasses up.

“Nearly, I think,” Zayn says, uncertain of just how close they are to the state line, because he’s lost all concept of distance and time; he feels crazy. “Virginia is fucking gigantic,” he adds helplessly. “Why are we still in Virginia?”

“Did you take a wrong turn?” Niall picks up the phone and frowns at it. “Zayn. We’ve got like four miles left before North Carolina. You’re being a bit dramatic.”

“Listen, listen,” Zayn says, “that’s easy for you to say when you’ve slept for the last two hours.” A semitruck is coming up behind them, and Zayn pulls over to the right lane to let him pass.

Niall digs through a bag at his feet and pulls out a package of apple pie he’d grabbed at a petrol station somewhere in Maryland. “Boo hoo, cry more.” He breaks it in half and hands a piece to Zayn, and Zayn turns the radio up and grins.

They’re quiet for a while and then a song comes on with upbeat guitars and a piano, and Niall groans and says, “Zaaayn!” He turns it up louder and sings along with the first verse; it takes Zayn a minute to place the song but the chorus comes on and says _I never meant to break your heart,_ and he’s singing along before he can help himself.

They’re doing a pretty solid harmony on _I'll be the one to cross over, just tell me it’s not the end of the line_ when Niall sits up straight and says, “State line!” It’s just up ahead, a small green sign, and Niall snaps a blurry picture as they drive by. “We made it!”

A hundred miles later, Niall is squirming around in the seat and Zayn is desperate for a restroom; they pass by a sign for gas and Zayn pulls off on the next exit. They wind up at a Walmart; Zayn uses the restroom and when he comes out they wander around the store for nearly an hour. “I can’t get back in that car yet, mate,” Niall says, and he grabs a handbasket and fills it with bags of crisps and chocolate bars.

They use a self-checkout and Zayn stands beside Niall and watches as Niall scans a chocolate bar. “Jesus,” Niall mutters when the computer tells him to put his item in the bagging area; he takes it out of the bag, puts it back in, nothing changes.

“Like this,” Zayn says, and he takes it back out and holds it up higher before dropping it back in. The computer lets Niall scan the next item, and Zayn just takes over bagging duties from there.

“Shoulda flew to Alabama,” Niall says as they walk back out to the car. “This fuckin’ car, I swear to god.”

They put the bags in the car and then Zayn takes out a cigarette, and they lean against the back doors and pass it back and forth. “You’ve gotta quit,” Niall says softly as he scuffs it out on the pavement with the toe of his shoe. “You’re a bad influence on me.”

“I know, I know,” Zayn says, and he elbows Niall. “C’mon, then, back on the road.”

They fill the gas tank again and get back on the highway; Niall is a chatterbox for most of this leg but it’s a giggly chatter, exhausted. He cheers when they get to South Carolina and then as they get off at their exit he sees a sign for Nando’s off in the distance. “Zayn, Zayn, look,” he says, but it’s on the other side of the highway in the other direction.

After they check in at the hotel, Niall offers to pay him a hundred dollars if he’ll go pick up Nando’s so he can sleep for half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes. Zayn pretends to get all indignant and says, “You should be picking it up, I’ve been driving _all_ day, like, you can’t be serious,” but once they bring all their bags to the room Zayn kisses Niall on top of the head and says, “What d’you want from Nando’s?”

Niall grabs his face and kisses him hard and says, “I love you, bring back everything,” and he kicks off his shoes and jumps into bed. Zayn takes the blanket off the other bed and makes a big show of covering Niall up with it; he kisses his forehead before he leaves and Niall laughs and pulls the blanket up to his chin and says, “Love you, love you.”

It ends up taking about an hour to find Nando’s and get back with the food, and when Zayn opens the door Niall is burrowed deep under the covers, sound asleep. Zayn puts the bags of food on the desk against the wall and goes out to the balcony, leaves the door cracked open a couple inches; he smokes a couple of cigarettes and scrolls through his Facebook feed, and then he sends Louis a text to let him know they’ve made it to South Carolina. _just a stop along the way right?_ Louis writes back almost immediately. _plenty of time for nialler to get inked ;) don’t forget to take video !!!_

_funny,_ Zayn writes back, _passed by a shop tonight while I was getting food…_

It takes longer for Louis to write back this time, and then he finally says, _he’d probably do it. sometimes it seems like he’d do anything for you._ There’s a pause where ellipses show up while Louis types more, and then, _sometimes meaning like ALWAYS, have i mentioned you can be a bit obtuse ?_.

Zayn rolls his eyes but he’s smiling; he holds the cigarette between his teeth and types back, _aint love grand?_

He waits but nothing comes back right away, and then ellipses appear for a split second before Louis says, _I would do all, whatever, and any things as long as doing them meant doing them with you._ Zayn puzzles over it for a moment and then Louis adds, _harrys got me reading poetry. isn’t that terrible ? anyways i read this yesterday and thought of you & niall._

Zayn is full smiling now as he finishes the cigarette, drops it into the ashtray. _beautiful_ , he writes back. _that’s absolutely brilliant._

_maybe he’ll tattoo that on his ass for you,_ Louis writes back as Zayn hears the door slide open behind him. _don’t forget to take video ;) ;)_

Zayn sends him a string of kissy faces and turns the screen off, and looks over his shoulder at Niall. “Hiya,” he says. Niall’s in trackies – maybe his own, maybe Zayn’s, he’s not quite sure anymore – with bare feet and a hoodie unzipped with nothing underneath. His eyes are tired but he looks rested, relaxed, his hair flat against his forehead. The light catches him just so and Zayn has to look away, squinting out towards the sun. “How’d you sleep?”

Niall takes Zayn’s lighter off the table and takes a cigarette out of the pack, lights it and takes a long drag. “Good,” he says, his voice a little raspy; he clears his throat and puts his other hand on the back of Zayn’s neck, palm pressed flat to his tattoo. Zayn leans into it a little, eyes heavy, and Niall says, “You brought back the whole fuckin’ restaurant, looks like,” and Zayn closes his eyes, nods, says, “Looks like.”

Niall goes to the vending machines to get drinks while Zayn changes into a pair of Niall’s pajamas. They flip through the channels and watch bits of different shows – a crime program, half of a comedy, a program about expensive real estate in California. They share all the takeout containers and during a commercial break Niall asks Zayn if he wants to hear him burp a monologue from The Princess Bride.

Zayn groans and pulls the pillow out from under his head, pushes it right in Niall’s face. “You can’t do that,” Zayn says but he’s a little curious, maybe.

Niall pushes the pillow down and laughs heartily, shakes his head, “Course I can’t.” And then he’s kissing Zayn before Zayn can catch up with what’s happening; he tastes like root beer and spices, a bizarre and heady combination that leaves Zayn feeling like he’s on fire.

They get tangled in the bedsheets and Niall makes a squawking noise when he can’t get his foot loose. Zayn sits up and unwraps him, leans down and kisses the knob of Niall’s ankle. “I’m like Cinderella,” Niall says, rolling onto his back and spreading his arms wide.

Zayn lies down next to him and presses his hand flat to Niall’s belly and kisses his neck and says, “Your feet are way uglier than Cinderella's.”

He laughs a little but Niall doesn’t think he’s funny at all, shoves his shoulder. “I haven’t had a pedicure in ages, you twat,” he says, and then he turns his back to Zayn and pretends to sulk until Zayn kisses up his spine and scrapes his teeth across the nape of Niall’s neck.

Later, they lay awake, staring at slivers of car headlights as they pass by on the wall. Zayn’s using Niall’s arm as a pillow and Niall’s scratching the top of Zayn’s head, slow and steady. Zayn hums aimless melodies against Niall’s shoulder and Niall sighs and says, “Can’t believe this is halfway over already.”

“What a killjoy,” Zayn says softly. “You’ve hardened in your time on the road, like. Who are you?” He looks up at Niall and Niall has his eyes closed but he smiles, presses his hand flat to the top of Zayn’s head.

“I wish it could last forever,” Niall whispers. “Like, you and me, traveling all over the place. Think of everything we’ve not seen yet.”

“We’d never see anybody,” Zayn says. He puts an arm around Niall’s waist and breathes deep; Niall smells of home to him now, like summer sun and open roads, like freedom. It hits him hard and square in the chest and Zayn pulls Niall closer, curls a fistful of Niall’s hoodie in his hand.

It’s impractical, Zayn thinks, living on the road; he thinks of his sisters and his parents, of Niall’s parents and his brother and Theo, and then he thinks of everything they haven’t seen and the roads they haven’t traveled and says, “How could you ever choose between, like.”

“Home and adventure,” Niall whispers, his voice thick with sleep, “why can’t we just have both? Like...” Niall falls asleep without finishing his sentence and with his hand curled around Zayn’s arm and Zayn presses a gentle kiss to the curve of his throat before he drifts off, too.

Zayn wakes up to a note on the pillow the next morning – _craving donuts, took the car, xoxo_ – and Niall comes back twenty minutes later with a paper bag of donuts and two cups of hot coffee.

Zayn is still curled up under the covers when Niall comes back and Niall shakes his head and says, “Unbelievable! I thought you’d be dressed!”

“It’s barely morning,” Zayn says, scowling as he sits up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna drink your coffee, too.”

“Try it and I’ll punch you in the face,” Niall says cheerfully. “It’s too sweet for you anyway, I’ve put fifty sugars in mine.” He sets Zayn’s cup on the night table and kisses him on the top of the head. “Morning, you’re beautiful, never change.”

Zayn feels like he’s dragging while they check out and Niall takes the next stretch of driving; Zayn puts his seat back and his window down all the way and they sing along with every song that comes up on shuffle. The directions bring them right through Atlanta and Niall turns the volume all the way up on a local top 40 station on the radio while Zayn takes blurry pictures of the buildings that pass by at seventy miles an hour.

They get tired of the music before they get to Alabama, and Niall turns it off completely while Zayn counts down the miles until the state line. “Chattahoochee River!” Niall yells in a terrible Southern accent, but Zayn laughs anyway and wishes he could post soundbytes to Facebook.

“That was it, I think,” Zayn says, “that was the state line, like.” He squints at the map when they pass a sign for Lanett. “That was _it_.”

“What??” Niall takes both hands off the wheel and flips both middle fingers at the sign for Lanett Valley. “I don’t feel very welcomed, Alabama!” Zayn laughs again, too hard, and he feels like maybe they’ve both gone a bit mad.

And then they pass a proper welcome sign that says _Welcome to Alabama the Beautiful_ and Niall puts the signal on for the exit and pulls off into the breakdown lane, one tire in the grass. “No, no, I think this is against the law,” Zayn says, but Niall puts the hazards on and gets out, runs over and takes a selfie in front of the sign. He comes back grinning and gets in the car, breathless, and Zayn can’t stop laughing.

They get off the exit anyway and they find a Burger King and go inside; the air is blissfully cold and they order burgers and fries and Niall spends ages deciding on a flavor to mix in with his Sprite. “Try raspberry,” Zayn says. Their elbows knock together as Niall presses his thumb to the screen and Zayn bites the inside of his cheek and smiles when the drink comes out neon pink.

The next stretch of highway makes Zayn think of old cowboy movies, of big empty plains that look like patchwork quilts from the air. Niall puts shuffle back on but keeps the volume down low, and Zayn reads out the names on the signs as they pass by. Opelika, Tuskegee, Notasulga. When they get off the highway they pass a sign for the Alabama Shakespeare Festival and Zayn googles it and sends a link to Louis, and he says to Niall, “Did I tell you Harry’s got Louis reading poetry now?”

The directions take them past restaurants and shops, a mall, housing complexes. After a bit of distance it turns to houses and then less houses and then nothing; Niall’s phone tells them to turn right onto Cypress Lane and so Niall does. The road is quiet, trees all around them like they’ve been transported to another world; stringy moss hangs from the branches and Zayn leans forward and looks out the window. “Jesus,” Niall says softly, “would you look at this place?”

“Unreal,” Zayn says, “like, is this real? Doesn’t feel real.”

The road turns to gravel and Niall lets off the gas as they pass some trailers, more trees, and then they come to a little brown building with a gate that says _Stop!_ so Niall puts the car in park and they both just sit there for a minute. “This is it, I think,” Niall says. He has both hands high on the steering wheel and he leans forward, looks at the building.

“It says to call,” Zayn says, pointing to the sign on the gate. “For more info.”

So Niall calls the number and Zayn feels nervous; Niall tells whoever’s on the other end that they’ve driven for miles and would love to see the town, charming as always. He punches Zayn in the arm and rattles off a string of numbers, _five five two four nine_ , and Zayn repeats it in his head while Niall says, “Perfect, brilliant. Thank you, mate, thanks a lot.”

Niall pulls up to the keypad and punches the numbers in and the gate slides open; Zayn chews his bottom lip as they drive on.

They park down a bit further and cross a field of dry grass and suddenly, just like that, they’re standing in the middle of Spectre. The buildings are old and run down, broken glass in some of the windowpanes and nature taking over porches and front stoops, but it feels magical and mystical and Zayn feels like he’s dreaming.

Niall takes his hand and they stand in the middle of the street for a long time, silent. Finally Niall presses two fingers to the inside of Zayn’s elbow and says, softly, “That’s the chapel, down there?” Zayn just nods because he thinks maybe if they speak too loudly everything will crumble to dust around them; everything is old and forgotten here but he wonders if that’s not the way it was always meant to be, if the movie magic has just gotten stronger so now the magic’s real. “Sick,” Niall whispers, “this is sick.”

They walk down towards the chapel and stop off at each of the buildings in between. The one just to the left of the chapel has tall bushes out front of the porch; Niall walks up to the steps and they’ve completely collapsed save for a few beams in the middle. “Careful,” Zayn says as Niall goes to take a step up, and Niall looks over his shoulder and smiles at him, squinting a little in the sun. Zayn feels a swirl of enchantment deep in his stomach and he shivers and smiles back.

“Stop worrying,” Niall says, but Zayn puts a hand on the small of Niall’s back anyway. Niall jumps up onto the porch and raises his hands up over his head, victorious, and then he holds out a hand and helps Zayn up, too. “Imagine if we lived here,” he says, stepping gingerly through the front door. The room is empty and the ceiling’s just sagging beams but there’s a fireplace and hardwood floors, a backdoor that’s been left open, curtains blowing in the breeze. Zayn closes his eyes and breathes deep and he feels settled; he imagines living here in the middle of nowhere with Niall, surrounded by magic and dreams, by twinkling lights and shoes hanging on a wire at the edge of the trees.

“Zayn,” Niall says. When Zayn opens his eyes Niall’s outside the back door, and Zayn walks over to find another porch, better preserved than the front; Niall nods up towards the sky and they’re surrounded by tall trees draped in moss, sunshine filtering through the leaves, and Zayn feels completely overwhelmed. “Like,” Niall says, but his voice cracks and he clears his throat, shakes his head.

“Best kept secret in Alabama,” Zayn says just as a breeze comes through; he wonders if it’s taken his words away with it but Niall nods and takes Zayn’s hand again and they go back inside, back out the front door.

They take a selfie on the front porch of the house and then Niall goes back inside and draws a big heart in the dust on the inside of the window of the door. Zayn smiles and takes a picture and Niall smiles big on the other side of the window; Zayn takes a couple more to make sure to get everything in the shot.

They go up the steps to the chapel, too, and the door’s open but inside it’s just plywood walls and floors. “Damn,” Niall says softly when he sticks his head in, and he sounds a bit disappointed. There’s a diamond window on one of the doors with two hearts drawn in the glass, and Zayn points at it and says, “Look, look.” Niall pulls him close and they stand underneath it, pointing at the hearts, and Niall takes a bunch of selfies until he gets the perfect one. “Send that one to me,” Zayn says. They sit on the steps of the chapel and Zayn posts the picture to Instagram and Facebook and Niall likes them both and leaves comments that are just hearts and kissy faces and heart-eyed smileys.

Zayn leans back on his hands and closes his eyes and they sit there, silent, for what feels like hours. It’s hot and humid and the air hangs heavy around them but there’s a soft breeze that feels alive and Zayn wants to stay here forever.

Finally, Niall scratches Zayn’s side and says, “Should probably head out, yeah?” and Zayn sighs and sits up and says, “Yeah, probably should.”

They’re quiet the whole drive back to the main road, and Niall sits at the stop sign for a long time with no traffic passing by. “I feel so,” Zayn finally says, but he’s not sure how to describe it so he doesn’t finish.

But Niall nods and says, “Yes. Yes. Me too.” He pulls out onto the road and reaches over and takes Zayn’s hand; Zayn takes his phone out and googles hotels and they end up finding one just up the highway back in the middle of real-life civilization.

“I can’t live like this anymore,” Niall moans as they go into their room. “I want to live in a magical town on an island nobody knows about.” He collapses on his back on the bed and covers his face with both hands.

Zayn puts their bags next to the door and lies down beside Niall. “How can something be so incredible and so depressing at the same time?” he asks.

“I don’t _know_ ,” Niall says. He opens his eyes and looks at Zayn. “I’m sorry I can’t provide you with the magic you deserve,” he says, very seriously.

Zayn sighs. “I guess it’s alright,” he says.

“I mean,” Niall says, “you’ll learn to cope. You’ll have to.”

“I’ll have to,” Zayn agrees.

Niall rolls his eyes, pushes Zayn’s shoulder and laughs. “Hopeless romantic, you are,” he says while Zayn pretends to be offended.

“I’m quite the romantic, thank you very much,” Zayn says. “Hey, I’m starving, are you hungry?”

They spend about fifteen minutes convincing each other to get up so they can find food, and when they finally get back on the road Zayn only drives a few minutes down the street before Niall points out a Waffle House. They eat there and then Niall takes the keys and they go through a McDonald’s drive-thru for milkshakes. “Chocolate?” he asks when they’re sat in front of the speaker. Zayn is laughing too hard to answer so Niall orders chocolate anyway, and when they get back to the hotel they sit together on the boot of the car so Zayn can have a cigarette before they go back inside.

“I think maybe I’ll try to quit,” Zayn says halfway through. He rolls it between his fingers and watches the smoke come out of the lit end.

Niall laughs quick before he says, “Maybe not a bad idea, champ, I’ll take you running and see if you keep up.” Zayn laughs out a mouthful of smoke and it almost looks like a ring of fire, the way it lights up in the setting sun.

That night they watch a few minutes of local news and it’s too depressing so Niall turns the television off completely. The only sound in the room is a loud hum from the air conditioner when Niall grabs Zayn’s chin and kisses him hard; he puts an arm around him, his hand pressed flat between Zayn’s shoulder blades, and taps out a rhythm on the back of Zayn’s neck. Zayn feels lightheaded and dizzy, drunk with too many feelings. “I’m gonna write songs about this,” Niall whispers against Zayn’s temple, and Zayn feels him grinning and grins back even though Niall can’t see him.

“Yeah?” Zayn kisses Niall’s jaw, the side of his neck, the hollow of his throat; it hits him then, how easy this all is, how well he knows Niall in the near pitch-black dark. His heartbeat thuds heavy in his ears and he inhales sharply and says, “Niall.”

Niall puts his hand on the side of Zayn’s neck and kisses the top of his head, doesn’t pull away for a long time; then he takes a deep breath and whispers, “You want to?” and Zayn puts a hand on Niall’s wrist and nods.

Niall takes control right away as he’s brought condoms and Zayn pretends to be shocked that he’d had the foresight to bring them at all. “Always be prepared!” Niall says, laughing a little. Zayn’s heart is pounding and he feels so self-conscious all of a sudden, anxious and nervous and will he even be any good at this, really? Niall seems to sense it and he bites at Zayn’s shoulder through his t-shirt and growls, whispers, “Take off your clooothes.”

So Zayn pulls his shirt off and Niall gets up and takes everything off until he's suddenly and brilliantly naked, illuminated from behind by the moon through the curtains. Zayn lifts his hips and kicks his pants off too and then Niall tackles him back onto the bed, kissing his neck and his collarbone and his chest right over his heart. Niall kisses down Zayn’s belly and sucks a bruise in the skin at Zayn’s hipbone; it’s overly sensitive and Zayn grabs handfuls of bedsheets, sucks in a breath and whispers, “Oh, _fuck_.”

Niall fucks him while the moon rises bright and full; it casts long shadows and bright highlights across the room and Zayn studies the moonlight on Niall’s skin. Niall moves slow and careful, lazy, like he doesn’t want to miss anything and they’ve got all the time in the world; even so, Zayn can’t catch his breath and he closes his eyes and sees fields of flowers, sunshine. He grabs Niall’s shoulder when he starts to see stars and Niall says, breathless, “Are you?”

Zayn bites his lip and whimpers a little, he can’t help it; Niall leans down and kisses him, pushes a little bit deeper and wraps his hand around Zayn’s cock; when Zayn comes it’s to bolts of lightning and shooting stars, brilliant and blinding, and he feels like he’ll never come back down.

Niall drives the whole way to Florida the next day. Zayn leans forward in his seat when he spots the sign for the state line and Niall pulls off into the dirt and parks the car. They both get out and stand under the sign and Niall hooks his arm around Zayn’s neck and kisses Zayn’s cheek while he takes their picture. They stop again just a bit further along and take more pictures next to a sign that says _The Sunshine State_. “We’ve done it, can you fuckin’ believe this?” Niall says, giddy, and Zayn truly can’t believe it.

They come up on a town called Marianna when the thermometer in the car hits 90, and it’s not even eleven in the morning. The air conditioner isn’t doing much to cool the car down so Niall rolls his window down and Zayn points out a McDonald’s so they stop off for food. It’s too early for lunch so they order egg mcmuffins and biscuits with bacon and egg, but they’ve got apple pies in the warmer so Niall orders four of those, too. Zayn takes over driving when they get back to the car and once he’s back on the highway Niall says, “You want some pie?” He doesn’t wait for Zayn to answer, just breaks off pieces and pokes Zayn in the corner of the mouth with them.

“Stop it,” Zayn says, laughing a little, but Niall just keeps doing it like Zayn’s not even saying anything. “Cut it out, I’m serious.”

“Serious people don’t laugh when they’re being serious,” Niall says. He’s sitting with his back against the door and his seatbelt loose around his back. “You think we could fill a suitcase with these? What if we miss America too much once we get home?”

Zayn doesn’t know how to answer, because what if they do?

Just outside Tallahassee, Zayn pulls off at a little wooden building in the middle of a gravel lot. There are baskets of oranges and grapefruits and a small wooden box with a slot in the top; Niall puts a five dollar bill in and they pick out a few oranges and a big grapefruit. “Worth it, yeah?” Niall says, and Zayn holds one of the oranges up to his nose and takes a deep breath.

Niall gets in the driver’s seat and they continue on; Zayn peels one of the oranges and separates the wedges one at a time, eating one and giving one to Niall, back and forth. The fruit is sweet and warm like the sun; Zayn holds the juice in his mouth long enough to memorize the flavor and then he tucks a piece of the peel into the ashtray because it smells like summer.

Niall gets off at the next exit and follows a few quick turns; they pass by a bunch of restaurants and shops and then they’re on a street with trees towering overhead right at the edge of the pavement. Niall’s phone says, “Your destination is on the right,” except to the right is a thick forest of trees and Zayn frowns.

“That’s not right,” Niall says, softly, and he turns right and they’re in a neighborhood where all the houses are the same, one after another after another. Zayn looks out the window for a yard full of whales but he doesn’t see anything.

“Turn back, go back to that street,” he says, and Niall turns around in an empty driveway and stops at the sign at the end of the road. Zayn looks down the way they came and says, “Go this way, we’d’ve seen it if we passed it.”

“What if it’s gone?” Niall says, watching out his window. “Maybe it’s been taken out, maybe it’s gone.”

“Turn right, babe, c’mon,” Zayn says, and Niall hesitates for a minute but then he turns right. There’s no traffic behind them so he drives a bit under the speed limit; they come up to a clearing and Niall says, “Where the fuck are we, I mean,” at the same time Zayn points out Niall’s window and says, “Pull into this lot here, it’s right there.”

Niall parks at a church across the street and they walk down to stand at the edge of the street under a tree and there, across the street, is the yard filled with jumping whales. It’s magnificent, Zayn thinks; there are little dolphins close to the street and enormous humpback whales coming out of the ground, giant tails ready to splash down in the grass. Niall stands beside him, silent, his hands in his pockets; Zayn nudges him with his elbow and Niall doesn’t look away but he says, “It’s even more incredible than I’d imagined it’d be, jesus.”

“They’re huge,” Zayn says. “Like. They’re enormous.”

“They’re _enormous_ ,” Niall says. “I thought they’d be little things, y’know?? Crazy. This is crazy, this is _sick_.” He takes his phone out and takes a picture, and he shakes his head.

They sit in the grass for a long time; Zayn loses track after a while and he lays down on his back with his hands laced together behind his head while Niall hugs his knees and watches a pod of whales who never go anywhere. “I hope nobody’s home,” Niall says after a while, and he looks down at Zayn and grins. “Pretty fuckin’ creepy of us, staking out their house.”

“I bet they’re used to it,” Zayn says. “They’ve got a yard full of whales, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Niall turns back towards it and he pushes his toe against Zayn’s calf. “Thanks. For sitting here, whatever.”

Zayn pushes himself up on his elbows and says, “Course. This was like. We talked about this ages ago.”

“I know,” Niall says. “Weeks ago! Jesus.”

They get back into the car when a car pulls into the driveway of the house with the whales, and Niall drives the rest of the way to St Augustine. They check in to the Casablanca Inn just before six; the lobby is filled with plush furniture and flowers and it smells like Zayn’s mum’s house. He sits in an old Victorian armchair while Niall gets the keys

There’s a fireplace in this room with a plant in it, too; Niall notices it right off and says, “Unbelievable! This must be an American thing, plants instead of fire? Wild.”

They’ve got a huge four-poster bed with sheer curtains gathered at the corners; there are big shutters over the windows and a bottle of champagne on the table with two glasses. Zayn turns the light on in the bathroom and says, “Oh, Niall, hey,” because there’s a whirlpool bath. Niall sticks his head in and grins at Zayn, wiggles his eyebrows, and he says, “Looks like we’ll be spending some time in here, hey.”

Zayn laughs and follows him back to the main room, and then Niall opens the doors to the porch and steps outside. There’s wicker furniture and an overhead fan; the air is warm and heavy when Zayn inhales and it makes him feel sleepy. “Let’s find food and booze, then,” Niall says, on a mission, “and then let’s just spend a week on these chairs here.”

“A week,” Zayn says, “I’m moving in here.”

“Works for me, I love it,” Niall says.

There’s a liquor store a couple miles away, and Zayn walks slowly down the aisles while Niall gets bottles of vodka and rum and bourbon. Zayn gets a bottle of tequila and realizes Niall has run out of hands. “You don’t have any mixers,” Zayn says. “Niall, we need mixers.”

“Grab some Coke, then, you’ve got a free hand!” Niall nods over Zayn’s shoulder.

“You’re going to mix all of this with Coke?!” Zayn says, incredulous, but Niall just laughs and whispers, “Shots, shots, shots,” so Zayn grabs a little package of neon colored plastic shot glasses and tosses them onto the counter, too.

There’s a little convenience store next to the hotel, so Zayn sends Niall back to the room with the liquor while he runs over to grab a pack of cigarettes. He gets a bottle of Coke and one of Sprite, and then a couple of lemons for the tequila even though he’s not quite sure whether that’s what goes with tequila. “It’s limes, you idiot,” Niall says when he comes back but he’s smiling with his eyes all soft so Zayn figures he means it fondly.

Niall’s got the alcohol set up on the porch and he reaches for Zayn’s hand but Zayn says, “Maybe let’s get some food, too?”

Niall wiggles his eyebrows like he’s trying to be sexy and says, “We’ve got liquor and a king size bed and a _whirlpool_ , who needs food?”

Zayn rolls his eyes and says, “You’re not fooling _me_ , like.” He takes out his phone and finds a pizza place close by and Niall stands close and looks at the screen. “Veggie?” he says.

Niall scrunches up his nose and shakes his head. “Mediterranean?” he replies, and Zayn shrugs. “Maybe both?”

Zayn laughs out loud and says in his best Niall voice, “Who needs _food?_ ” His accent is complete _rubbish_ , he knows it and judging by the way Niall doubles over laughing, Niall knows it too.

“Just get both!” Niall says once he’s caught his breath. He takes Zayn’s phone and studies the menu some more so Zayn takes Niall’s phone and calls to order. He’s giving his name when Niall says, “Oh, oh. Add some of this fried okra!” Zayn does and then Niall says, “Corn nuggets! Add some of those!” Zayn laughs and adds those, too, and then Niall calls out, “Jalapeno poppers!”

Zayn holds his hand over the mouthpiece and says, “Are you quite finished, that’s the whole menu!”

“Yes, yes, that’s all.” Niall is laughing and Zayn laughs too, tells the person on the phone that’ll be everything. He asks if they deliver but of course they don’t, so they head back out to pick up the food ten minutes later. Before he gets in the car Niall kicks the tire and says, “This car, I swear my arse is gonna be permanently indented in this fuckin’ seat.”

After they finally get back with all the food, Zayn changes into basketball shorts and a tshirt and Niall puts on sweatpants and they bring everything out to the porch. It’s nearly dark now, the sunset painting deep purple streaks across the clouds, and it’s as if they’re on a tropical island. Niall pulls one of the wicker chairs up so it’s facing the other one and they sit across from each other; Niall stretches his legs out so his feet rest on the chair between Zayn’s knees, so Zayn stretches his legs out so he’s got a foot on either side of Niall’s hips.

They eat almost all of the pizza that way and barely make a dent in the booze; Zayn is pretty sure he could fall asleep right here in this chair and sleep for days. He dozes for a while and then Niall starts poking him in the dick with his toes, giggling exhaustedly. Zayn swats at his ankle and says, “Cut it _out_ ,” squirming a bit in his seat, but Niall seems to keep making contact no matter where he squirms to.

Then Niall stretches, yawning enormously, and says, “That bed’s calling me,” so they drag everything back inside and collapse into bed. The lights are out and then Zayn realizes they’ve left the doors open, so he says, “The doors, we didn’t shut the doors.”

Niall sighs and curls into his pillow, his back to Zayn, and Zayn thinks he might already be asleep. “Later,” he whispers, “just give me five more minutes’n I’ll get up t’close it.”

“You won’t,” Zayn whispers back. He grabs Niall around the waist and pulls him close, rests his chin on Niall’s shoulder. He blows softly against Niall’s ear and Niall reaches up to push him away and winds up clocking him right in the nose. “Owww,” Zayn groans, rolling onto his back. It’s not that it hurts all that much, just that it was a surprise, but he covers his face with both hands all the same and pretends to be in pain while Niall pushes himself up on his elbows and touches Zayn’s knuckles with careful hands.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I misjudged, I thought you were further away.”

“I think it’s broken,” Zayn says flatly. He speaks through his nose, a bit, tries to make it sound nasally. He sees Niall’s eyes go wide in the dark and he smiles. “I’m joking,” he says, normally. “I’m fine.”

“What??” Niall grabs Zayn’s wrist and Zayn grins up at him. “What’d you do that for, I thought you were really hurt, you _wanker_.” He lies back down, facing Zayn this time with his arm folded under his head.

“Tell me more about your job, like,” Zayn says softly. He reaches over and squeezes Niall’s hip and then he leaves his hand there, rubbing a circle against Niall’s skin.

“Told you all I know,” Niall says. He breathes slow, deep; Zayn counts the inhales and exhales and feels sleepy. “It’d be fun, y’know? One job, normal hours. I could give up my others.”

“What would you do with your time?” Zayn whispers. He closes his eyes and smiles.

“Eh, cook for you, I’d imagine,” Niall whispers back.

“I can cook for myself, thanks,” Zayn says. Niall laughs softly and Zayn pulls him close, hugs him tight around the waist and presses his hand to Niall’s back between his shoulderblades.

Niall sighs and presses his palm to Zayn’s cheek and kisses him, soft and drowsy; Zayn feels him go sleep-soft in his arms, and Niall whispers, “I didn’t close the doors, babe,” and Zayn presses his nose to Niall’s hair and whispers back, “’S alright.”

Zayn wakes up early, humid Florida air breezing through the open door and birds chattering right outside that sound like monkeys. Zayn feels rested and warm, pleasantly drowsy from the alcohol last night; it smells fresh and dew-damp inside and he grabs Niall and hugs him tight, buries his nose in Niall’s neck. “Morning, morning, morning,” he whispers, and Niall hums happily and hugs him back.

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine today, are you sick?” Niall presses the backs of his fingers to Zayn’s forehead while Zayn laughs and shakes his head. “Hmm. A bit peaky.” Zayn rolls his eyes and goes to take a shower while Niall laughs; when he comes out Niall has his laptop open to a map of roadside oddities and already has their day sorted.

They’re on the way to the Fountain of Youth when Niall says, “Whoa, hey, turn here!” Zayn turns at the street Niall’s pointing to and the phone keeps telling them to return to the route, return to the route. “What are we,” Zayn starts, but Niall says, “Didn’t ya see that huge cross??”

And Zayn hadn’t, he’s got no idea what Niall’s talking about, but then they come up on a small roundabout and Zayn drives around it slowly and stops the car on the other side next to a walkway over the water. At the other end of the bridge is an impossibly tall cross, towering high over the trees and shining bright in the sun. They sit there for a minute and then Niall says, “Keep going around, I think there’s some parking over here.” 

They park in a lot under a tree and walk back to the walkway, and they get halfway across before Niall stops and holds a hand over his eyes to block the sun. “Would you look at that,” he says in a hushed voice. “How tall d’you think that is?”

Zayn squints up at it and swallows hard; he suddenly feels small, so small. “Dunno,” he finally says.

“A million miles,” Niall says softly, more to himself than anything else, and they stand side by side in silence for a bit before Niall says, “Okay. C’mon, I’d like a picture.”

Niall turns to him once they get a bit closer and says, “Is it sacrilegious to pretend I’m holding it?”

Zayn looks at Niall and then up at the cross and back to Niall, considering the question. “Hmm,” he says, and he looks back at the cross. “I reckon probably not, like. Probably not.”

Niall looks over his shoulder and then holds his hand up and pinches his fingers together, and Zayn takes a few steps backwards and kneels down. He directs Niall to move his hand left, then a bit more left, up and a little to the right, until he gets a shot of Niall holding this huge cross like it’s a single flower, wearing Zayn’s sunglasses and smiling with all his teeth showing. Zayn curls his hand around the screen of his phone and studies the picture; Niall comes back over and stands in front of him, expectantly. “I love this one,” Zayn says, “this is my favorite picture of you, like, ever.”

“Ever, really?” Niall says. Zayn sends Niall the picture and then changes Niall’s picture in his contacts, and Niall takes his hand when they’re halfway across the bridge back to the car.

“Felt a bit sacrilegious,” Niall says as he looks back over his shoulder, and then he shrugs.

They continue back up the highway to a castle on the beach that Niall had found online. It’s modeled after a 10th century Irish church, according to the website, but it’s available for tours by appointment only. Zayn says, “Maybe they could take us through last minute?” but Niall just leans forward in his seat and shakes his head.

“Nah, no,” he says. “I don’t want to bore you to death.” He grins at Zayn and then he points and says, “There it is, d’you see??”

Turrets rise up a bit higher than the treetops and it looks like someone’s taken part of Ireland and dropped it here, in the middle of palm trees and heavy saltwater air. “Sick, sick, sick,” Niall whispers. There are signs for no parking all along the road so Zayn drives up and down a few side streets with bright colored houses with rocks instead of grass in the front yards. The trees are grown together over the street so it’s like driving through a tunnel, and once they’ve come out the other side the castle is just ahead but still in the middle of the trees.

“It’s like a moat of forest, I dunno how to get there,” Zayn says as they sit at the stop sign. He leans forward on the steering wheel and looks at Niall. “What d’you wanna do?”

“Turn left here,” Niall says, so Zayn does. Niall’s studying his phone as they drive and when they get to the next sign Niall tells him to turn right. They’re headed back towards the water now but then Zayn spots a gated road so he pulls off into the dirt and turns the car off. They’re as close as they’ll get, he figures, but Niall’s eyes are wide with amazement so it’s all been worth the trouble.

Once Niall’s got a few pictures they’re back on the highway, headed to the Fountain of Youth. Niall reads the description of the park from the website and he says, “Five hundred years of history, can you believe that? Older than Plymouth Rock, this place.”

“Shoulda started at Plymouth Rock, Niall,” Zayn says as he parks the car. “Why didn’t we start at Plymouth Rock?”

“We’ve really fucked this up,” Niall says seriously. “Oh well. Next time!”

The front gate is run down but somehow immaculate, and Zayn pays for their tickets at the desk. Niall is giddy like a little kid and Zayn looks at the map and says, “Here, the spring’s this way.”

He starts to walk in that direction but Niall grabs his arm and says, “You’re crazy, we save the best for last,” and pulls him down a path in the opposite direction. Niall takes a selfie of them both with a statue of Ponce de Leon; Zayn makes a peace sign and Niall grins and says, “Love it, perfect.” Niall leans close to read a worn bronze plaque at the statue, and he runs his fingers over the raised words. “La Florida. Land of flowers,” he says, and he turns to Zayn, delighted. “Land of flowers!”

They come up on a watchtower and Niall throws an arm around Zayn’s neck and takes a picture with the tower looming behind them. “You wanna go up?” Zayn asks, looking over at him, and Niall makes a face and looks up at the tower. “It’s alright. It’s not that high.”

“Can you handle it, d’you think?” Niall looks over at him and grins. Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs Niall’s hand and Niall says, “Ooh, look how brave you are, I like it,” and they climb to the top.

“It’s not _that_ high up,” Zayn says once they’re at the top. Niall walks over to the railing and curls his hands over the edge, leans out and looks down.

“It's pretty high up,” Niall says. Zayn hangs back closer to the middle of the floor and Niall looks over his shoulder and smiles brilliantly. “C’mon over. I promise I won’t push you over the edge.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring,” Zayn says.

Niall turns back to the horizon, leans out again. “You can see for ages, look at this. Christ.”

Zayn steps up beside him and puts a hand on the small of his back, instinctive. He looks out in the direction Niall’s looking at he’s right, they can see for miles. The cross is off in the distance and even from here it looks enormous. “Here, come here,” Niall says, and he turns his back to the view and takes out his phone.

“You’re nuts,” Zayn says, but it’s soft and he doesn’t mean it. He puts his arm around Niall’s waist and puts his other hand on Niall’s cheek and pulls him close so their faces are pressed together.

“Aw, so sweet,” Niall says as he holds up his phone. Zayn turns and kisses Niall’s cheek at the last second, and Niall laughs, surprised; Zayn leans in to look at the picture when Niall pulls it back up and it’s fucking adorable, sickeningly so. “Oh my god,” Niall says softly. “I _love_ this one.”

“Cuuute,” Zayn says, and he can’t stop smiling.

They’re on the path back towards the spring when they pass a field of peacocks. Niall stops and watches them for a while and Zayn spots a pure white one a bit further away. “Look, look,” he says, pointing him out to Niall.

“Can you put him in my hand??” Niall asks, and he turns to Zayn and holds out his hand, his fingers straight and careful. “Get down a bit lower, kneel down.”

Zayn does, of course; he takes three or four shots to make sure he’s got a good one, and when he stands up Niall turns and watches the birds again. “They’re pretty, yeah?” he says softly, like he still can’t quite believe what’s right here in front of him. Zayn smiles and pokes the back of his shoulder but Niall doesn’t turn around. “I can’t believe everything we’ve seen,” he says. “Like. Can you believe what’s out here? Imagine everything that’s still left, y’know?” He looks at Zayn then and Zayn feels small again, like a grain of sand on the beach or a star in the sky, light years away.

They get lunch at the café back down by the ticket gates. Zayn studies the menu for a while and decides on a cheeseburger, and Niall scoffs and orders a chicken burrito with a side of calamari. “You’re trying some of this,” he says to Zayn.

Zayn shakes his head and says, “No, I’m not.”

“Zayn!” Niall says. “I pick the food, remember!”

“Within reason!” Zayn pays for lunch before Niall can get his wallet out. “I’m craving a burger, like. It’s so American, this place is historic. I need a burger.”

“You’re embarrassing,” Niall says, but he grabs Zayn’s arm and kisses his cheek. “Thanks for lunch.”

They eat at a little picnic area away from everything else, at a bench near the trees. Niall sits in the grass with his back against the bench and his legs stretched out with his feet crossed at the ankles; Zayn sits sideways on the bench with his own legs stretched out, leaning back against the armrest. He squints in the sun because Niall’s stolen his sunglasses, but the sun’s behind him anyway so it’s not really all that bad.

Niall silently holds up one of the pieces of calamari; Zayn doesn’t take it so Niall just keeps holding it up and finally Zayn sighs. “If I try this, will you let me finish my burger in peace?” Zayn asks, and Niall laughs and says, “Yep.” Zayn tries it and it’s not his favorite thing but it’s not terrible; Niall leaves him alone after that.

They sit for a while once they’re both done eating and watch the trees blow in the breeze. Zayn shifts a little on the bench and then he sits down next to Niall on the grass; the bench is hard against the curve of his spine but it’s nice, sitting here in the silence and warm air. Niall’s got his palm pressed flat against the dirt and he keeps brushing his pinkie against Zayn’s pinkie, and finally Zayn elbows him gently and slides his hand under Niall’s hand, links their fingers together. “You’re all dusty,” he says softly, watching their hands.

“Shoulda brought some Purell,” Niall says, and he pushes up his sunglasses like a headband and looks at Zayn. His eyes are soft and a little sleepy, and then he says, “I’m gonna take the job, I think.”

Zayn’s chest swells and he smiles big. “Yeah?”

Niall nods and smiles back. “Yeah.” He puts his sunglasses back on and tilts his head up to the sky. “It’d be nice t’have a real job, y’know? Regular days off, all that.”

“Imagine you with a proper job,” Zayn says; he can’t stop smiling. “Riding the tube to work. You’d start wearing suit jackets and ties.”

Niall laughs loud and scrunches up his nose. “Right, right,” he says, “I’d quit right now if he made me wear a _tie_ , can you imagine?” He’s quiet for a minute and then he says, “You could do your art thing, y’know? Like. If I took it.” It’s so quiet and careful that Zayn’s not sure he hasn’t imagined it, but he keeps replaying the last few seconds and coming up with the same words. _You could do your art thing, you could do your art thing_ , and he’s afraid to ask what that means.

Zayn swallows hard and feels delirious, and finally he says, “It’d be brilliant if you took it, I think.”

Niall pushes the sunglasses up again and looks at him, his eyes determined and intense. “It’d pay enough for you to do your art thing,” Niall says. His voice is still soft but firm, and Zayn isn’t sure what to say. “Like,” Niall goes on, “like if you wanted to. You could, we could find a flat or something.”

“Niall.” Zayn studies his face but Niall doesn’t waver, just watches him right back. Zayn feels nervous laughter bubbling in his chest and he tries to swallow it back but it comes out anyway. “That’s crazy. That’s crazy, you can’t do that.”

“Says who, you??” Niall’s smiling and it makes Zayn feel like he’s finally gone mad, he’s finally lost it. “Maybe this is my calling, maybe I’m meant to give you that platform so you can be epic. You should be glad I’ve finally found what to do with my life!” He sounds overjoyed, absolutely elated, and Zayn just stares at him because he’s got no idea where to begin.

“Listen, look,” Niall says. “If it’s awful, if you hate it, then we can reevaluate in like, six months. Three months. Whatever.”

“I’ll think about it,” Zayn says. His head is swimming with paintbrushes and budgets, payments on a flat and bills and canvases with thick brushstrokes of paint. “Alright?”

Niall grabs the back of Zayn’s neck and kisses him, hard; Zayn puts his hand on Niall’s thigh and kisses back and he can’t even think straight. “Best I can ask for, I suppose.” He smiles at Zayn. “I love you, you’re brilliant, and if this is what it takes to show that to the world…” He shrugs and smiles. “You think about it, and let me know.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Zayn says.

Niall scrunches up his nose and grabs Zayn’s chin, and he says, so seriously, “You deserve everything. Stop underestimating yourself.”

“It’s getting a bit late, yeah?” Zayn says. His voice breaks a little and he feels like his words could stir up a dust storm; he clears his throat. “Maybe we should hit that fountain now?”

Niall stands up without letting go of Zayn’s hand and pulls him up, too; Zayn grabs him and hugs him tight, cupping the back of Niall’s head. “Your heart is too big,” Zayn whispers, kissing his cheek. 

“Lucky I’ve got you to share it with, then,” Niall whispers back. “I’d give you the world if I could.”

Zayn’s never felt this way before, he thinks as they make their way to the fountain; simultaneously loved and in love in such a sudden and crushingly extraordinary way. He watches Niall as they walk, stealing glances at him while Niall’s not looking, and his heart feels fit to burst.

The Fountain of Youth, it turns out, is a hole in the ground surrounded by a stone wall and a plaque that just says _Fountain of Youth_. “No,” Niall says softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “This isn’t even a fountain!”

“Ruined,” Zayn says somberly. “Whole trip’s ruined.”

“Just like that!” Niall says. “I can’t believe this!” He leans over and looks down into the hole, and Zayn does the same but can’t even really see any water down there. There’s a pitcher on the top of the stone wall with some small plastic cups, and he pours two of them and hands one to Niall.

“We should make the best of it, then,” Zayn says.

Niall drinks his water like a shot, knocking it back all at once. “You shouldn’t even be drinking this,” he says to Zayn. “Like you need more help to look better than the whole fuckin’ planet. I need barrels of it just to catch up to you.”

Zayn laughs and makes a face and says, “Oh, right, right, what’d you say you were?”

“A troll,” Niall says, but he’s laughing.

“Right,” Zayn says. He rolls his eyes as he finishes his water; it’s ice cold but it tastes metallic and he doesn’t feel any different. “You, a troll. Ridiculous.”

They stop at the gift shop on the way out and Niall buys a bright green bottle filled with water from the fountain. “Maybe I need another one,” Niall says as he considers a blue bottle, too. “D’you think they _sell_ barrels?”

On the way back to the hotel they stop to get pizza for dinner, and then they stop next door and get cupcakes. Zayn waits in the car while Niall’s in the cupcake shop and he comes out with a half dozen. “Listen,” he says when Zayn groans, “first I picked out two, and then I couldn’t decide between these four, and then they had one called Breakfast in Bed so tomorrow we can have _cupcakes_ for breakfast!”

“What flavor cupcakes are _breakfast_?” Zayn is overwhelmingly charmed.

“Cinnamon cake,” Niall says. “Cream cheese frosting, pecans, orange maple syrup. _Bacon_.”

“Holy shit, why don’t we eat those every day _already_ ,” Zayn says.

“Right, that’s what I’m saying. You need to trust me more!” Niall takes Zayn’s hand and puts his window down all the way; We Are Young comes on the radio and Niall sings along at the top of his lungs.

They finish off some of the alcohol with the pizza, sitting on the floor on the porch. Zayn’s got a couple of cigarettes left and they pass one back and forth once they’re done eating, and then Niall pinches the end of it to stub it out and drops it into his empty glass. He looks up at Zayn and pushes the pizza boxes out of the way and then pushes Zayn down on his back, straddles his thighs and holds his hands down at the wrists.

Niall kisses him and then he sucks at a spot on Zayn’s neck just past the collar of his shirt. Zayn bites his lip and closes his eyes until he sees fireworks; Niall exhales against his collarbone and he whispers, “I love you so fuckin’ much, like. So fuckin’ _much_ , it’s endless.” Niall’s hard and Zayn’s senses are all too sensitive and too alert and he can’t focus on anything but the idea of getting Niall off, immediately, _right_ this minute.

Zayn manages to get a hand loose from Niall’s grip and pushes Niall onto his back. He undoes Niall’s shorts and jerks him off until Niall is squirming around beneath him, one hand on Zayn’s hip and whimpering Zayn’s name in gasps of breath. “I love you,” Zayn whispers with kisses to Niall’s jaw and his collarbone, Niall’s skin hot against Zayn’s lips.

They get one of the sheets off the bed and curl up together in one of the wicker chairs on the porch. It’s a tight fit but the night is cool and there’s a bit of a breeze and Zayn feels a heavy exhaustion settling in his bones almost immediately. Niall wraps the sheet around them both and Zayn rests his head on Niall’s shoulder; Niall puts his hand on the back of Zayn’s neck and they fall asleep that way, crammed together in a wicker chair under a nearly full moon while waves crash on the beach in the distance.

They check out early from the bed and breakfast because Niall has a plan in the works but he won’t tell Zayn what it is. Zayn hates secret plans so he’s kind of frustrated by it but it means he doesn’t have to drive, so he lets Niall have his secrets and rides shotgun for what feels like hours. Niall stops for gas and buys Zayn a keychain of a bright pink flamingo that says _FLORIDA!_ across its belly; he’s wearing a neon green snapback when he gets back in the car and he pouts for the camera when Zayn takes a picture of him.

Zayn’s been dozing when Niall pokes him in the arm, says, “Hey, Zayn, hey,” and when he opens his eyes Niall’s driving slow around a bend under a bridge. “Look out the window here,” he says, and as they come out from under the bridge Zayn sees a huge statue of an MTV moon man behind a chain link fence in the middle of a parking lot. “Oh,” Zayn says softly, leaning forward and peering out his window. “That’s _horrific_. No.”

Niall laughs and they get back on the highway. “It’s sick,” he says once they’ve merged back into traffic. “I love it.”

Once they get to Orlando, Niall says he’s craving donuts again and they come up on a Krispy Kreme with the _HOT NOW_ sign lit up in the window. They stand inside at the smudged glass and watch as the donuts fall into the oil and go through the waterfall of icing. They each get a warm donut and then Niall orders another half dozen and two bottles of water. They sit at a table in the corner and eat the whole half dozen and Zayn feels like he’s going to throw up.

“It’s a good kind of sick,” Niall says when they’re back in the car, and Zayn covers his face with both hands and laughs. “Don’t you think?”

They drive another twenty minutes or so and then, around a bend in the road, are the main gates for Walt Disney World. “No,” Zayn says, leaning forward in his seat. He feels butterflies as the gates get closer and he fumbles with his phone, takes a blurry picture as they pass through the gates.

Niall grins and pushes Zayn’s knee with his fist. “Yep, yep,” he says, and then he starts singing the beginning of Circle of Life. Zayn’s pretty sure he’s actually just singing nonsense words but Zayn’s not sure of the real words either so he just watches out the windshield and laughs. 

Niall’s planned a whole little vacation, it turns out once they get to the front desk of the hotel. Zayn feels completely overwhelmed while Niall is checking them in; they get a folder full of maps and Niall tells him to pick a color. “Red?” Zayn says and he feels like a crazy person; next thing he knows Niall is wearing a green bracelet and he’s snapping a red one around Zayn’s wrist.

The lobby is huge and cavernous; the walls are covered with sketches, of the hyenas from The Lion King, of Flounder and Ursula. They’re assigned to a room on the fourth floor next to a giant statue of King Triton; they drive around to their parking lot and then walk across the courtyard to their building, and Zayn feels like they’re swimming through a coral reef. 

The room is small and simple, two beds and a bathroom, and it’s freezing cold; Zayn goes into the bathroom and flips the light on and the shower curtain has a picture of Ariel smiling back at him.

“So,” Niall says as Zayn’s washing his hands, “here’s my surprise!” He’s beaming at Zayn in the mirror and Zayn smiles back and his chest feels too small for his heart. “Are ya surprised??”

“Completely,” Zayn says. There’s a bottle of lotion next to the sink and when he opens it it smells like tea and lavender. “Unreal,” he murmurs. He turns and walks over to Niall and hugs him tight, and Niall hugs back with his arms around Zayn’s waist. “ _Unreal_ ,” he says again, “I didn’t suspect a thing.”

When Zayn steps back, Niall is beaming. “I thought we needed a bit of a break, we’ve got this room for five days.” Five days is a lifetime, Zayn thinks; five glorious days. “There’s buses,” Niall says, “and this, a train thing, it’s up over the ground, like.”

“The monorail,” Zayn says, “it’s.” He shakes his head and feels a bit stupid but Niall just smiles bigger.

“Monorail,” Niall says, “of course. Like you don’t know what all this stuff is already.”

“Whaaat, no,” Zayn frowns and shakes his head, but he knows and Niall probably knows he’s not fooling anybody; Zayn’s wanted to visit Disney World since he’d read about it in a travel book years ago, way before he’d even thought about going to uni or traveling abroad or leaving Bradford, even. And here they are, he thinks, and he has to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Niall sits beside him and takes out his laptop, and he says, softly, “We can do whatever you wanna do, babe.”

Zayn looks over at him for a long time while Niall is frowning at his computer, and Zayn elbows him gently and Niall looks up. “What,” Niall says, and he grins. “You’re completely overwhelmed, I see it in your eyes.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Zayn says. His voice feels shaky, uncertain; he pauses for a minute and shakes his head. “This is, like.”

“You’ve wanted to come here,” Niall says with a shrug. “I thought, hey. We’ll be in the neighborhood, let’s stop off.”

“Just like that,” Zayn says, grinning.

“Just like that.” Niall squints at his computer again and then he grins and says, “Here it is! They’ve got an Irish pub!”

Niall makes a reservation for a late dinner and Zayn turns on the telly while Niall is changing clothes. When he comes back out, Zayn’s sitting on the end of the bed, captivated by this channel he’s found that shows information about all the parks, all day long; the woman hosting the show is talking about a water park that looks like a ski resort and Niall says, “Well. There’s tomorrow, then.”

They take a bus to Downtown Disney for dinner and somehow Niall convinces him to go up in a hot air balloon to see everything on Disney property. Niall takes Zayn’s elbow and pats the inside of his forearm and says, “Look, if we fall, we’ll die together. It’ll be a horrific and tragic end to a beautiful love story but at least we’ll be together.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say,” Zayn says, “why would you say that??” But Niall is walking towards the ticket window and Zayn just lets himself be led up there too. The area where they’ll stand is closed in with a net and the balloon is tethered to the ground, alright, it’s tethered and it seems like it’s safe but Zayn’s hands still shake as they start to go up in the air. What if there’s a freak storm and they get struck by lightning, four hundred feet in the air? What if the tether snaps and they drift off, higher and higher until they’re at the top of the atmosphere? Zayn puts his hands on the railing and holds tight until his knuckles turn white and Niall stands at his side and keeps a hand at the small of Zayn’s back and honestly, it helps. At least he thinks it helps. 

They get up in the air and Zayn feels lightheaded. He breathes slowly, in through his nose and out through his mouth, and Niall leans close and points out towards the horizon. “That’s Epcot, there,” he says, “d’you see? The big silver ball.”

“I feel like I’m gonna pass out,” Zayn says softly. Niall’s hand feels a bit firmer on his back and Zayn shakes his head. “Not really, just.”

“It’s a lot,” Niall says. “Maybe shouldn’t’ve blindsided you this way, yeah?”

When Zayn looks at Niall he’s grinning and Zayn laughs and says, “Nah, no, this is brilliant. It’s brilliant.” Zayn feels like they’re on top of the world. 

There’s still some time before dinner once they get back to solid ground, so they wander around the shops for a while. They find a little shop tucked back in one corner where a guy is standing behind a red velvet counter with a deck of cards. Niall steps up to watch and Zayn stands back a little, his hand on Niall’s shoulder; the guy asks Niall to pick a card and Niall writes his name on it, sticks it back in the deck. The guy shuffles them and does some fancy hand moves and then he pulls Niall’s card with his name on it out of the pocket of his jacket. Niall whistles and claps and when he looks over his shoulder at Zayn he’s got some magic in his eyes, too.

They sit by the water for a little while while the sun goes down and Niall sings along to every song playing over the speakers. A Whole New World comes on and Zayn sings Aladdin’s lines while Niall takes Jasmine; when the song is over a little girl dressed like Aurora stands on the bench next to them and claps and cheers. Niall looks over at her and then feigns shock and awe while he pretends she’s the real Sleeping Beauty and asks if he can have her autograph.

She scrawls Aurora on the back of a receipt while her mother spells it out for her, and then she takes a picture of them together. She thanks Niall and they leave, the little girl looking over her shoulder and all of them delighted, and Zayn has never in his life witnessed a more magical moment than this.

Niall tucks the receipt in his wallet and he looks as if he’ll never stop smiling, and he says to Zayn, “I saw that on the internet once, a security guard askin’ little kids for autographs when they came into the park. Always wanted to do that, meself.” 

Zayn imagines he must have hearts radiating out of his eyes.

They make their way to the Irish pub and Zayn orders a Guinness straight away. Niall groans and leans back in his seat, shaking his head. “You’re an embarrassment, a fuckin’ cliche,” he says.

Zayn just takes a long drink and says, “Mmm, it’s so Irish, delicious.”

They spend ages poring over the menu; everything has a cheeky name and Niall laughs at nearly all of them. “What’s the best thing, d’you think?” Zayn asks. 

Niall skims the menu with pursed lips before he wiggles his eyebrows at Zayn and says, “Keen Eye for the Shepherd’s Pie, I reckon you’d be happy with that.” 

Niall finally decides on a mixed grill with all sorts of different meats, and he makes Zayn try a piece of black pudding and Zayn has to order another Guinness to wash the taste away. “It’s _good_!” Niall exclaims. “You’re a fuckin’ heathen, don’t ever let Bobby Horan find out you don’t like black pudding.”

“He wouldn’t make somebody eat that,” Zayn says.

“He would!” Niall grins at him and says, “How’s your food?”

It’s all delicious, every bite, and Zayn feels full when they’re done but not full enough to pass up dessert; they share something called a Dunbrody Kiss, a plate full of chocolate mousse that’s heavy and rich and bittersweet. “Drinks, we need drinks,” Niall says once they pay the bill, and their waiter says they’re welcome to move to the bar, so they do.

The crowd gets noisier as it gets later and Niall gets louder and more Irish as they have more drinks; after a while Zayn just sits back and sips at a cocktail and watches, comfortable, as Niall charms the whole room. They’re a little stumbly when they leave, buzzed and full of energy, and Niall hooks his arm with Zayn’s as they walk towards the bus stop under trees filled with twinkling lights. 

“Hey, hey,” Zayn says when they pass by a huge shop with a gigantic statue of Stitch perched over the door, “Niall. Niall.”

Zayn’s decided they need Mickey Mouse ears, so he leads Niall into the biggest and most crowded Disney shop he’s ever seen in his life. “We’ll get lost in here,” Niall says as he grabs Zayn’s hand and puts his other hand on Zayn’s wrist. “Don’t let go.”

They buy two pairs and get their names embroidered on the back in yellow thread; Niall puts his on before they even leave the shop and he looks very seriously at Zayn and says, “Look how cute I am.”

Zayn laughs and grabs his hand and they’re nearly to an exit when Niall says, “Wait!” and drags Zayn back into a room filled with glass cases of silver and gold necklaces, expensive watches, the walls covered with row after row of collectible pins. Niall walks over to one of the counters and looks in one of the cases at rows of sparkling rings. “Let’s see, let’s see,” he says.

“What’re you looking for?” Zayn asks, frowning.

“Shoulda bought you a diamond in New York, I told you,” Niall says. “D’you like these?”

Zayn laughs a little and looks in the case. The price tags are way too high, hundreds of dollars and real diamonds, and he shakes his head and says, “No, no, this is too much. I’m refusing this one, seriously.”

Niall groans and says, “Zaaayn, please, c’mon,” and Zayn keeps refusing until Niall finds a shelf with rings for kids, inexpensive versions of the real thing. “I like this one,” Zayn says, and he points to a silver ring with a tiny Mickey head made from cubic zirconia. Niall takes his hand and fits him for the right size; Zayn watches and smiles and says, “I’d quite like it on my little finger, maybe.”

Niall nods, very seriously, and says, “That would suit you nicely.” They find one that fits and while they’re at the counter Niall says, “I know it’s a knockoff but you better wear this every day.” The cashier takes the tags off and Zayn slips it on his finger; it’s tiny and delicate and he’s pretty sure it’s made for teenage girls but he loves it immediately.

Once they’re outside Zayn puts his ears on too and he and Niall take a selfie in front of the store with Stitch up over them in the background, and then Niall yawns and says, “Okay, I’m beat, take me home.”

Niall leans against Zayn’s shoulder for the entire bus ride back to the hotel and they somehow manage to find their way back to the room without too much trouble. They collapse into the bed closest to the door and leave the second bed untouched, tangled up in each other; Niall pushes Zayn onto his back and pulls his shirt off, tosses it on the floor and puts his hands on Zayn’s sides, studies him in the dark. Zayn tries to pull his shirt off but his fingers feel numb, and Niall shakes his head and whispers, “No, no.” 

Zayn frowns and says, “No, what?” but Niall just cups Zayn’s face in both hands; Zayn puts his hands on Niall’s hips and says, “What,” again, and Niall shakes his head.

“Two weeks ago you were just my best mate,” Niall says softly. He presses his thumbs to Zayn’s cheekbones and shakes his head again. “It's just kinda crazy.”

“Dunno if I was just that, though,” Zayn says, softly. “Like. Was that it, really? Don’t think I was, I don’t reckon I was.”

Niall doesn’t answer, just smiles and kisses him softly, curls up beside him with his arm draped over Zayn’s waist. “Don’t reckon so either,” Niall whispers. He hugs Zayn around the waist and fits his head into the curve under Zayn’s chin, and Zayn falls asleep easy, warm and comfortable.

The sun wakes them both up early because they’ve forgotten to pull the shades closed the night before. “Nooo,” Niall groans before Zayn opens his eyes; once he does, Niall’s pulled the covers up over his head.

Zayn pulls them back and kisses Niall’s forehead. “Mooorning,” he says in a singsong voice; he feels like a bird from Cinderella. “Where are you taking me today?”

They sit outside for breakfast and eat Mickey shaped waffles from the food court. “It’s a bit early still,” Niall says, “but it’s a good day for the water park, I think.”

“Oh, the one like a blizzard!” Zayn nods. “Let’s do that, I want to do that.”

So they go back to the room and pack a bag with swim trunks and towels, and then they drive over to Blizzard Beach. Niall buys a pair of hot pink sunglasses at the gift shop just inside the entrance and wears them like a headband as they walk towards the changing rooms. Everything is covered in fake plaster snow and Zayn shivers even though it’s hot outside. 

When Zayn comes back out of the changing rooms Niall’s across the sidewalk at a kiosk that does temporary tattoos. He sees Zayn and waves him over and says, “Look at this, let’s do this!” Zayn takes video on his phone of Niall getting Buzz Lightyear applied to his inner arm; he winces and pouts at the camera and Zayn laughs and ends the video, sends it off to the boys back home with a text that says _is this what you meant by tattoo? ;)_

“I’ve picked one for you,” Niall says. He picks out a little one for Zayn of Bambi as a baby, and Zayn laughs and has it put onto his ankle. 

They get a locker for their clothes and drop their towels at some beach chairs in the shade and start off at the lazy river. Zayn sits down on an inner tube while Niall rides inside one, keeping pace with Zayn while he keeps his feet on the ground. They float along until they get to a house that sneezes buckets of water; Niall puts his feet down to stop himself and grabs the handle of Zayn’s inner tube before he can paddle himself away. The timing’s just right or just wrong because the house sneezes and then they’re both _drenched_.

Niall shouts and laughs, and Zayn pushes back at him and flips himself over in the process. He breathes in water and comes up coughing; Niall is laughing hysterically but he paddles over and rubs Zayn’s back until he catches his breath. “You’re the worst,” Zayn says, pushing his hair out of his eyes, but he starts laughing, too. He gets back inside his own inner tube and they keep floating.

They’re just about to get out of the river when a photographer in the water asks if they want a picture. Zayn puts his feet down to stop himself while Niall swims over and hooks an arm around Zayn’s neck and they smile big for the camera, and the photographer takes a couple shots and scans Niall’s bracelet and tells them to have a great day.

The wave pool is across the sidewalk so they wade in up to their knees. A couple of inner tubes wash up on the concrete shore so they grab those and wade out further; the waves kick on and Zayn closes his eyes and feels like he’s in the middle of the ocean. Niall’s looking up at a towering ski jump when Zayn opens his eyes again and he says, “That’s a slide up there, you wanna go up?”

“Fuuuck no,” Zayn says, shaking his head. “You’re _crazy_ , you can go up and I’ll watch from here.”

It turns out there’s an area for spectators or people who are too chicken to try the slide, as Niall describes it, so Zayn leans on the railing while Niall climbs the steps up to the ski jump. Zayn shields the sun and watches him for a while but then Niall rounds a corner and Zayn loses track of him until he’s up to the top level, waving down at Zayn from miles away. The slide looks nauseating, a near vertical drop, and another photographer sits in a lifeguard chair at the bottom to capture the terrifying moment Niall comes down. He sits up and he’s laughing, of course, and Zayn finds himself laughing too. Niall comes up the steps and he’s breathless and he hugs Zayn hard around the waist, carefree and soaking wet. “Fuckin’ exhilarating, you sure you don’t wanna try??”

Zayn shakes his head but they climb the stairs back to the top; there’s a tamer one with big rafts, Niall says, so they get in a big raft and go down the mountain on a twisty slide. Near the bottom they get caught up in a backlog of rafts and their raft stops right underneath an icy waterfall that drenches them both instantly; Niall arches his back and yells and Zayn laughs until he’s crying. 

On the walk back towards the chairs, Zayn’s stomach is rumbling; they’d passed a ski lodge that serves burgers and salads on the way in but then they round a corner and there’s a truck serving ice cream sundaes inside sand buckets. They bring one back to the chairs and split it for lunch. Zayn lies back in his chair and his skin feels tight from the chlorine, his shoulders burnt and sensitive.

After they finish eating Niall shivers and says, “Let’s head out, yeah?” Zayn nods and they gather up towels and head to the changing rooms; Niall stops every so often to stand in shady spots on the sidewalk to cool the bottoms of his feet.

Zayn’s tying his hair back when he comes out of the changing room, and Niall is leaning against a railing in the shade of a palm tree, thumbing the screen of his phone and smiling. “Lou says that tattoo doesn’t count,” he says when Zayn gets close.

Zayn grins and hangs his towel around his neck. “Damn,” he says. “Guess you’re just gonna have to get a real one, then.”

Niall puts his phone away and smiles back. “Guess so.”

Niall pulls up directions to Epcot when they’re back at the car; as they get closer Spaceship Earth just gets bigger and bigger and Zayn feels overwhelmed. “It looks so much smaller in pictures,” he says as they walk up to the gate.

Once they’re through the turnstiles, they have to walk underneath it; Zayn looks up as they do and it’s far too high to even reach up and touch it. “Jesus,” Niall breathes. “Makes me feel microscopic.”

There’s a big board that flashes wait times for the shows and attractions, and they stand in front of it for a minute before Niall says, “Y’know what I’d like to do, is travel ‘round the world.”

Zayn grins and looks over at him. “Alright, yeah,” he says, and they bypass the whole front half of the park and walk towards the water.

At the end of the walkway they stop and Niall looks left, then right, and he says, “Alright, which way?”

Zayn unfolds the map and says, “The UK’s this way,” and thumbs towards the right. “I reckon we should start in Mexico, like.”

Niall nods and they go left.

They go up into the pyramid in Mexico first, and Zayn stops off at a table in the lobby that’s filled with hand-painted wooden animals. Niall takes pictures of a big turquoise horse with a bristly tail while Zayn buys a little wooden lizard, its scales painted bright pink with tiny white dots down its spine. “Good choice, good choice,” Niall says, and then they walk through the next set of doors and suddenly they’re outdoors again but it’s nighttime and they’re in a Mexican street market.

Niall buys a big orange crepe paper flower at one of the stands and speaks Spanish with the guy working the register, and when he gets his change he turns to Zayn and offers the flower. “For you,” he says, taking Zayn’s hand, and Zayn can’t stop smiling.

They ride a boat ride that follows the Three Caballeros through Mexico; they drift along a river around a Mayan pyramid and through different scenes with dancing children and piñatas, and Niall kisses Zayn when fake fireworks go off over Mexico City.

There’s a margarita stand outside and they stop off to get drinks – Niall asks for mango and Zayn goes with lime – and Zayn is already feeling a buzz when Niall asks to trade sips. Zayn laughs and shakes his head and says, “We’ve got to get out of here, this is dangerous,” so Niall takes his hand again and they move on to Norway.

The ride’s closed down in Norway so they walk through the pavilion and Niall ducks inside a bakery while Zayn sits on a bench and finishes his margarita. Niall comes back with a sweet pretzel and he says, “Figured you could use a bit of food to soak up the booze.”

“I’m really not a lightweight,” Zayn says, and he takes a bite of the pretzel. “Thank you.”

Niall buys egg rolls in China and they sit on a bench and watch a bunch of little kids performing acrobatic tricks in a garden. “Imagine what their lives must be like,” Zayn says softly, and Niall nods.

They walk through the shops in Germany; Niall buys an apple dipped in caramel and milk chocolate and Zayn laughs and says, “ _Niall_.”

“It’s for later!” Niall insists, and he kisses Zayn quick on the cheek while the cashier wraps it up. They’re about to leave when Zayn spots a tray of chocolate cupcakes drizzled with Werther’s caramel and he doubles back and buys two of them while Niall stands by the door and laughs.

In the Christmas shop, Zayn stands and studies a tree covered in shining green glass pickles while Niall tries to decide on an ornament for his brother and his wife. Zayn buys one of the pickles while Niall is still deciding and the cashier wraps it quickly and hands it to him in a small box.

“I’m starving,” Zayn says as they cross into Italy.

“You’re starving!” Niall says. “What, just like that!”

“We’ve just walked from Germany to _Italy_ ,” Zayn says, “have you got any idea how far that is?”

They walk into the pavilion, a bright wide-open space of bricks and stone, planters filled to overflowing with flowers and a fountain in the back. A bell tower rises high in the middle of the plaza and Zayn looks up at it. “Looks just like Venice,” Niall says, and then he kisses his fingertips and says, “Italy!” His accent is terribly charming and Zayn laughs, and Niall watches him and laughs back. “Ya want pizza, then?” There’s a pizza restaurant tucked off to the side so they go in and share a pizza with prosciutto and cantaloupe, and it’s messy and imperfect and tastes just a bit like home. 

The America pavilion looks nothing like any of the America they’ve seen; they stand in front of the main building and finally Niall says, “I suppose it looks a bit like Virginia?” 

“Mmm,” Zayn says, and he squints at it. “Perhaps some Pennsylvania?”

“Oh, maybe, maybe,” Niall says. He pulls Zayn in for a selfie in front of it anyway and they both make peace signs and kissy faces at the camera. There’s a kiosk selling pins and they browse for a while before Niall finds one shaped like a Mickey head in the colors of the American flag. While he’s paying for it Zayn finds the same one in the colors of the Irish flag and buys that one. “Oh,” Niall says when Zayn pins it to his shirt. “Look at that! An honorary Irishman, that’s you!”

Just before they cross into Japan, Zayn spots a little cart tucked back under the trees that sells cups of brightly colored shaved ice. Zayn tries tangerine and Niall orders rainbow because he can’t decide; they sit on a low wall in the shade and watch people pass by while they eat, and finally Niall says, “How ‘bout we eat every meal here for the next four days, then.” 

They pass by a Japanese pagoda and Zayn stops and takes a picture looking up at the top of it. “Niall, look, Niall,” he says about everything; an enormous torii gate stands tall next to the water and when they stand in front of it, Spaceship Earth is perfectly centered across the lake.

“Stand there!” Niall says, and Zayn turns and faces him and smiles big, gives two thumbs up, and Niall takes his picture. “Ah,” Niall says when he looks at it, “you’re perfect.”

The sky is starting to go ominously gray over the water so they go into Mitsukoshi and wander around shelves and shelves of Japanese souvenirs. “We should get something for the lads,” Zayn says as he looks over a shelf of little mechanical toys; when he turns to Niall, Niall is holding up a sticker of Hello Kitty hiding behind a pile of oranges. “Oh my god,” Zayn says. “Yes. That’s brilliant.”

They pick out an assortment of things – the sticker and three matching keychains, a royal blue teapot, a calendar shaped like a parakeet. They pick out three sets of chopsticks and Niall looks over a table full of tiny bowls and finally picks out three that are covered with koi fish, one each in red, blue and green.

Then, around the next corner, they get to a whole room filled with Japanese sweets and crisps and boxes of tea. Zayn chooses a box of tea for Louis while Niall picks out snacks for Harry and Liam; when Zayn goes back to him he’s got a bag of dried squid, a packet of tangerine gummies, a tray of candy shaped like sushi. “Dried squid!” Zayn scrunches his nose and shakes his head.

They bring everything to the register and while the cashier rings everything through, Niall picks out two little wooden cats from a box on the counter, adds them to the pile. On the way out the door Niall takes out the purple one and presses it into Zayn’s hand and says softly, “Strength in artistic sense.”

Zayn smiles and turns the cat over in his hand and says, “What’s the pink one?” 

Niall doesn’t answer but he smiles a little, and Zayn reads the sign quick as they pass by another register before they head back outside - _romance and new friends_.

The sky’s not broken by the time they step outside, though the wind’s picked up a bit. They walk back into Morocco and through the shops; they step inside the Fez House and look up at the sky through the open ceiling. Niall takes pictures of beautiful light fixtures while Zayn brushes his fingers over intricate tile mosaics, and for a moment it seems as if they’re actually in Morocco.

As they leave the pavilion Niall spots a booth for henna tattoos. He sits down with an artist and asks her to give him something like Zayn’s wrist; Zayn sits close to Niall with his wrist up on the table so she can use it for reference. Niall sits very still while she paints petals on his wrist with thick ink; it’s intricate and swirling halfway up Niall’s forearm when it’s finished. He’s not to touch it while it dries, she tells him, and he’ll need to let the dye flake off on its own to make it last longer.

Zayn holds their arms side by side and takes a picture and sends it to Louis. _better ??_ Niall sends off and Louis writes back immediately with _I meant a REALLLL tattoo Niall !!!_ and then, right afterwards, _that one looks lovely though, I approve of the design & placemnt_ with two thumbs up.

An easel is set up next to the water in France and Zayn stands at it and pretends to paint while Niall takes his picture. There’s a bakery but Niall shakes his head and says, “It’s best if we don’t go in there, I’ll buy it out,” so they cross over the bridge into the UK.

The streets don’t really look anything like streets Zayn’s familiar with but even so it’s got a bit of the essence of London, and Zayn’s heart suddenly aches for home. He squeezes Niall’s hand and they take their time going through every shop. Zayn picks out a teacup for Louis in the Tea Caddy and Niall picks out some chocolate bars at the register. Everything inside looks familiar and the air smells like home, like tea and spices; it all feels so familiar. 

They walk through the toy store and Niall buys a stuffed bear for Theo. Zayn finds a book about David Beckham at the sport shop and Niall takes a picture of him holding it up and sends it off to Louis. There’s a bright red phone booth outside and Zayn takes a picture of Niall inside it and then Niall takes one of Zayn inside it, too. Then Zayn says, “C’mon, get in with me,” and they squeeze in together and Niall kisses Zayn’s cheek as he takes another picture. 

Niall doesn’t step out of the phone booth while he looks at the picture, and Zayn watches him for a minute and then he says, “That should be your new profile, on Facebook.”

“It’s cute, yeah?” Niall says. He looks up at Zayn and smiles. “I like this one.” He changes it right there, tags Zayn in it. He goes to put his phone away and then he takes it back out and says, “Hey, I’m just gonna.” He pauses and looks at Zayn for a long time before he goes back into Facebook, changes his relationship status and adds Zayn’s name. And just like that, it’s official, while they’re crammed inside a phone booth in the middle of the sidewalk on a fake London street; Zayn feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and outside, over the speakers, he hears the Beatles singing _she loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah_.

“So!” Niall says as he steps back outside. Zayn follows him and he can’t stop smiling; it’s stupid, becoming Facebook official. He’s never put much stock in it before but this feels big, important; when Niall turns to face him he’s got a big smile, too, and his eyes are shining like stars. “On to Canada?”

Zayn buys a package of maple sugar leaves in Canada and Niall tries to talk him into buying a plaid flannel shirt but Zayn says, “No, absolutely fucking not, are you insane?” Zayn watches the sky while Niall takes some pictures of the gardens; it’s getting darker, more ominous, but so far the rain’s held off. He puts his hands in his pockets and crosses his fingers. Niall comes back a few minutes later and he hooks his arm with Zayn’s. “How’s your tattoo?” Zayn asks.

“Which one?” Niall says. “I’m all inked up now, I’m turnin’ into you!” Zayn laughs and Niall holds up his left hand. The ink’s nearly dry and it’s already starting to crack; the contrast of the henna dye against Niall’s skin is mesmerizing, and Zayn takes a deep breath. They look ahead but there aren’t any countries left; they’ve completed their trip around the world.

“Y’know,” Zayn says slowly.

At the same time, Niall says, “I could really go for,” and they both laugh. 

“You go,” Zayn says, “you could go for?”

They could go for more shaved ice – buckets of it, Zayn thinks – so they go back to the little stand in the trees. They walk a bit faster because the sky looks like it’ll open up at any second. Niall tries melon this time and Zayn goes for rainbow, and they sit on the same wall as everything around them gets darker and darker.

Just as Niall says, “Fuck, I think,” there’s a boom of thunder and it starts to downpour. “Nooo,” Niall says, “we haven’t tried all the flavors yet!” He hunches his shoulders a little, leans into Zayn; they’re mostly protected by the trees but they’re still getting wet, a little.

Zayn raises his voice over the rain and he says, “Don’t let the rain control your life!” and Niall laughs loud as Zayn gets up. He empties his pockets and leaves his phone with Niall and says, “What kind d’you want, tangerine is the one you’ve got left?” He takes a step back and suddenly he’s out from the cover of trees and he’s immediately soaked; he squints at Niall and Niall’s eyes go wide.

“Yes,” Niall nods, “tangerine, yes, go now, quick!”

Zayn is dripping wet when he comes back, carrying two cups of tangerine ice. Niall’s wrapped Zayn's phone up in the little plastic bag he’d gotten for the maple sweets in Canada. “Your mum commented on my post,” he says when Zayn sits back down and hands him one of the cups. “Thanks, babe.”

“She did?” Zayn says. He frowns and takes his hair down and then ties it back up while Niall pulls up the message; his mum’s not really all that tech-savvy but she’s got Facebook, at least, and she’s left a quick comment on Niall’s relationship status, just _lovely lovely news. so happy, miss you both!!!_ Zayn reads it a few times and then Niall says, softer, “I didn’t think about that, when I put that up.”

Zayn shakes his head. “’s alright,” he says. “She’s not…I mean, I think…” He’s not sure what to say and he shakes his head. “I mean, I reckon she must’ve, like. Everyone else seemed to figure it out before we did.”

“Before you did,” Niall says, very quietly. The rain slows down as quickly as it started, and everything goes still; Zayn watches him for a moment and Niall says, “This one’s the best, don’t you think?”

By the time they finish the rain’s stopped but the sky is still dark. Zayn says, “You wanna head back?” and when Niall meets his eyes there’s something unfamiliar there, something foreign. 

Zayn watches him for a long time and then, finally, he stands up and holds out his hand. Niall takes it and stands up too, and they take the long way back through America, Germany, China, Mexico. They’re quiet most of the way, and then when they pass by the pyramid in Mexico the sun breaks through the clouds and drowns everything in a dazzling golden light.

Niall takes out his sunglasses and puts them on and Zayn says, carefully, “Am I the only one who hadn’t figured it out?” They stop at the end of the walkway back towards Spaceship Earth, and Niall looks back over his shoulder, across the water towards the America pavilion.

“I reckon so,” Niall says, finally. His voice is rough; he clears his throat and turns back to Zayn. “Yeah.”

Zayn is quiet for a long time, letting that sink in.

Niall squeezes his hand and then he says, “Things turned out alright. Can’t change the past, can only learn from the things we wish we’d done different.”

A photographer is standing in the middle of the sidewalk and Zayn pulls Niall over and asks if she can take their picture. Niall starts to say, “No, no, we look like drowned rats,” but Zayn puts an arm around Niall’s waist and pulls him close and Niall pushes the sunglasses up on his head and sighs. “You’re a nightmare,” he says and Zayn pinches his side and makes him laugh out loud. She takes the picture when they’ve both got big smiles, and then she looks at the screen and says, “Oh, let’s just do one more.” Zayn doesn’t pinch Niall this time but Niall puts his arm around Zayn’s waist too and leans his head in a little and they smile again; she takes two more.

When Zayn goes over to scan his bracelet, she shows him the last one, where Niall’s looking over at him while he’s smiling at the camera, and the way Niall’s looking at him gives him chills.

There’s no line at Spaceship Earth so they duck inside to ride it before they leave. On the way up they smile at a camera hidden in the darkness and Niall answers questions on a little screen about where they’re from and what the future holds. Zayn takes a deep breath while Rome is burning, and he leans back and looks up at the ceiling while Michelangelo paints the Sistine Chapel.

When they get to the top he can make out the shape of the globe and it hits him, how high up they are; he closes his eyes because the stars make him dizzy, and Niall takes his hand and links their fingers together. Zayn doesn’t open his eyes again until Judi Dench says, “And now I believe your future is just about ready. Let’s take a look, shall we?” Their video is about underwater adventures and robots, and their faces are pasted onto cartoon bodies of them in the future, zooming around underwater in a futuristic submarine. Zayn rests his head on Niall’s shoulder and Niall says, “Isn’t that fuckin’ magical?”

Niall doesn’t let go of his hand when they get off the ride, and they stand close together while Niall emails their future video to his dad. There’s an enormous globe in the middle of the room and they watch as their pictures come up, eventually falling down to land on England and Ireland.

They stand and watch for a while as strangers’ faces fall onto places all over the world, and finally Niall tugs on Zayn’s hand and says, “C’mon, then.” Zayn drives back to the hotel and neither of them says anything.

Niall is on his back on the extra bed when Zayn’s changed into dry clothes; the air conditioning is blasting ice cold air and Zayn turns it down and says, “You’re gonna catch a cold.”

“That’s an old wives tale,” Niall says. He has his hands laced together on his belly, his knees bent over the end of the bed.

Zayn sits on the other bed and takes out his purple cat, turns it over in his hand. He sets it on the nightstand and looks at it for a long time; after what feels like forever, Niall says, “I think I’ve been madly in love with you since the minute we met at Brez’s party.” His words land soft and sudden, like rocks dropped in a glass-still pond. Niall turns his head and looks at Zayn, and then he says, “I wish I’d told you sooner. I wish I’d done that differently.”

Zayn looks at him for a long time and then the air conditioner kicks on. “You can’t change the past,” he says softly. “Didn’t you just tell me that?”

Niall sits up and takes the pink cat out of his pocket and sets it carefully on the table next to the purple one. He looks at Zayn again and his eyes are desperately, impossibly open; devastating, Zayn thinks, he’s devastating.

“I still wish,” Niall starts, but he shakes his head and sighs, stands up. He digs through his suitcase for a change of clothes and goes to walk past Zayn to the bathroom but Zayn grabs his elbow and Niall stops and waits but doesn’t turn around.

“I wish I’d figured it out sooner,” Zayn says, soft and even. Niall doesn’t look at him but he doesn’t pull away, either. “Can’t change it.” Niall looks at him again and Zayn’s heart catches a bit in his chest. “Think of all we missed out on, like.”

“Coulda traveled the world three times by now,” Niall says. “Four times. A hundred.”

“I don’t know how I missed it,” Zayn says.

Niall watches him for a long time, studies him, and he blinks slowly but doesn’t say anything. Zayn finally lets go of his arm and Niall grabs his face and kisses him, hard. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything,” he says. “More than anyone.”

“More than Derby,” Zayn says, narrowing his eyes a bit.

“More than that,” Niall says. "That's serious, I really love Derby. This is really serious." 

“Hmm,” Zayn says. He puts his hands on Niall’s waist and Niall kisses him again, softer.

“More than anything,” Niall says again, firmer this time. “Let me change to something dry and then we’re going for a walk,” he says. “I’m starving.” He kisses Zayn’s forehead and he walks towards the bathroom, leaving Zayn feeling lightheaded on the end of the bed.

Niall has his hand on the handle when he looks back over his shoulder and says, “D’you think maybe we’ve been meant for this moment here? Maybe this was our destination all along,” and Zayn frowns a little and considers it, but by the time he thinks to answer Niall has stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.

Once Niall comes back out he’s wearing Zayn’s sweatshirt and Zayn’s not really sure when Niall got it back from him. Niall walks over and takes Zayn’s hand and they walk out of the room, down through the courtyard. The sky is dark purple and all the spotlights are coming on and Zayn really feels like he’s underwater.

They walk along the path next to the water and Niall doesn’t let go of Zayn’s hand but he doesn’t say anything, either. They round a bend and they can see the point of Pride Rock at the staircase of the next building, and beyond that are tall pillars with seagulls perched at the tops. “Mine, mine, mine,” Niall says softly, grinning under the moon, and then he says it again in a bunch of languages – some Zayn recognizes and some he doesn’t – and it’s all just fascinating, really, the way his mind works.

They walk down to the seagulls and then they walk into the courtyard and they’re suddenly in the middle of a coral reef. There are fish tucked in the bushes, painted on the walls, swimming through midair; the tops of the buildings are waves and Zayn wonders if he needs to hold his breath. There are enormous jellyfish next to the pool and Zayn shivers; they go inside and get hit with a blast of cold air just inside the doorway but they get ice cream cones at the counter and then go back outside. The air feels heavy when they step back outside but it’s calming, comfortable; Niall’s only let go of Zayn’s hand to pay for the ice cream and everything feels quite nice.

Something between them has shifted since they’d left the room, Zayn can feel it; Niall’s palm is warm and comfortable against his, their fingers fitting together to fill all of the negative space and make things whole. Something has changed.

He points out Mr Ray across the courtyard and Niall smiles and sings, “Seaweed is cool. Seaweed is fun. It makes its food with the rays of the sun,” in a gruff American accent. “Think that’s how it goes, yeah?”

Zayn laughs and says, “I think so, yeah.”

They walk the fence around the pool and finally Niall says, “I was serious, before. When we get back to London you should get a flat with me. I’ll take the job with Brez, we’ll get a flat, you’ll do artwork all day.”

Zayn feels like his heart’s stopped and Niall looks over at Zayn and his eyes are shining in the overhead spotlights, too dark and too bright, and Zayn smiles a little. Nemo and Marlin are peeking out of an anemone behind Niall and everything feels too much like a dream.

“What, just like that?” Zayn says. “Just like that, then, you think I’m just gonna, like.”

“Drop your plans to look for a boring office job, yeah,” Niall says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Stop living with your mum and dad, yeah. Yeah. Haven’t I given you a good enough taste of this _life_ , Zayn? For chrissakes! This is a sick life you could be living! And with _me_ , no less!”

“Alright, alright,” Zayn says, laughing a little, “you’ve made some valid points.”

“Valid points,” Niall says in his stupid inaccurate Zayn voice and Zayn laughs in spite of himself. They keep walking until they end up in front of an enormous sea turtle with Dory on his flipper, and she’s impossibly blue even without any sunshine. Niall stands there and studies her for a long time, and Zayn’s about to ask something when Niall looks over at him and says, matter-of-factly, “Y’know, you’ve ruined my life.”

And that’s not really what Zayn’s been expecting, not really, and he frowns. “Um,” he says carefully. “What’s that?”

Niall sighs a huge sigh and looks back up at Dory and says, “I had this huge speech planned, I was going to be all, ‘no one’s ever stuck with me for so long before’ and ‘please don’t go away’.”

Zayn’s only seen Finding Nemo a handful of times but he looks up at Dory and then back at Niall. “And you’ve not even tried to leave.” Niall holds up their hands, still linked, and Zayn rolls his eyes.

“You were going to plagiarize a Disney film,” he says.

“ _Borrow_ ,” Niall says pointedly. “I borrow things from literature all the time. It was brilliantly romantic! The lights. The tropical fish.”

“You’re positively _insane_ ,” Zayn says, and he tries to pull his hand away but Niall holds tight and laughs, big and loud.

Zayn laughs too because he can’t help it, and they keep walking. 

Niall swings their hands a little and after a couple of minutes he says, soft and dramatic, “When I look at you, I feel it,” and Zayn rolls his eyes again. “Zayn. Take this seriously.”

“I am!” Zayn says, grinning. “I feel it too, course I do.”

“Course you do,” Niall says softly, looking down at his feet and grinning like a fool.

They don’t even turn the light on when they get back to the room; Niall takes off his shoes and crawls into bed so Zayn does the same. They lay there without saying anything until finally Niall says, “I mean it. I’m home with you.”

Zayn closes his eyes and counts to ten; he says, “Are you stealing this from the movie?”

“Yes,” Niall says, “but I also mean it. It’s creatively convenient.”

Zayn laughs and Niall does too, and then Niall says, “Okay, I’m serious. Get serious. Get serious and get a flat with me in London, let me work at my fancy new job so I can fully support your burgeoning art career like normal twenty-two year olds do.”

Zayn laughs and rolls onto his back, and he groans and says, “Niall, that’s insane. Like, that’s _insane_.”

Niall laughs too and moves closer, hugs Zayn around the waist and kisses his neck. “I knowww it is, that’s what makes it so _exciting_.” He kisses Zayn’s neck again and says, “I believe in you.”

Zayn rolls onto his side and kisses Niall on the top of the head and says, softly, “I can’t say no to you.”

“You can try,” Niall whispers back, “but it’ll never stick.” He hugs Zayn tighter and whispers, “If you don’t want this, you can tell me.”

Zayn’s pretty sure this is the only thing in the world he’s ever been sure of. “I’d tell you if I didn’t, but I mean.”

“Brilliant,” Niall whispers. “This is brilliant, you’ll see.”

Zayn smiles and closes his eyes again; when he falls asleep he dreams of a vast and infinite future, painted with bright colors and intentional brushstrokes. Opportunity spreads in front of them like a neverending ocean floor; Zayn looks over his shoulder and Niall is there with his hand pressed to Zayn’s back, a constant support, and Zayn’s heart beats in splashes of vivid violets and reds.

The next morning, they sleep late; Niall kisses Zayn until his lips are chapped and they stumble to the bathroom together, shower together, clumsy under the water. Niall laughs against Zayn’s shoulder and says, “This looks so much more graceful in the movies,” and he tries to wash Zayn’s hair but gets shampoo in Zayn’s eyes and then in his own eyes. The floor of the bathroom is soaked by the time they get out, and then Zayn gets back in and properly washes his own hair.

They barely make it to the food court before they switch over to lunch, and Niall orders Mickey shaped pancakes while Zayn goes for the waffles. They eat outside again and the sun feels warmer, the colors brighter. Zayn feels like their world intensified overnight and isn’t it all a little unbelievable?

Niall gets in the driver’s side and turns the air conditioner on full blast. They sit for a minute and then Niall says, “Alright, champ. Where to?”

“A proper chauffeur, you are,” Zayn says, and Niall puts his sunglasses on and laughs. Zayn leans his head back against the headrest and says, “Let’s go to the Animal Kingdom. See the tigers and the monkeys, that’ll be relaxing.”

Niall nods and backs out of the spot. “Animal Kingdom it is, then.”

Zayn pulls up directions on the phone and then he says, “We should play mini golf tonight, after the sun’s gone down.”

“Mini golf!” Niall says. “You realize I’m a world class golfer, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zayn says. “I’ve heard you say that before.”

Niall acts incredulous as he pulls out onto the main road. “You’re in for a world of surprise, then, I’m actually world class. You’ll be shocked, it’ll shock you.”

“Mmhmm,” Zayn says patiently. Niall laughs and reaches over, pushes the side of Zayn’s head; Zayn catches Niall by the wrist and kisses his palm. And just like that, they’re settled, and just like that, everything’s so easy; Zayn reaches over and turns up the radio and sings along at the top of his lungs.


End file.
